Darkness Ascendant: A Harry Potter Adventure
by Cole Pascal
Summary: A hero will rise, wielding a hereditary power that when coupled with a knowledge of contemporary technology will create a new world for Magicals and a new potential for humanity at large.
1. Prologue

See forum for author notes and disclaimer on this story. Support my if you think I should be able to write constantly when not caregiving.

* * *

They sat in the Filthy Wand, an ancient pub in the heart of Knockturn Alley that served the best bitter in all of England—made by monks who did only ritual magic, eschewing wand use—and had the best chips and IPA battered cod in the world.

They watched the others in the pub, wondering when their master would again call them into battle.

The two wizards turned in opposite directions when they heard shouting. While one watched the card game get heated, the other made sure it wasn't a distraction.

A witch appeared in the door, her face shielded by a cloak but a diamond cutout in her robes revealed impressive if wrinkly cleavage.

She joined the two, flicking her hood down and stealing some chips. "My niece invited me to her kids' halloween party. Wanna come be chaperones to give her a night off?" And get away from all this, was the unasked question.

Both shrugged. "Sure."

A flick of the fingers and the bamboo and paper that protected the table from the food turned into a panda shaped bamboo box with a hemp string as a handle.

As they left Knockturn Alley, they apparated away, making use of the anti-anti-apparition-jinx hex their master had taught them, thumbing their nose at the ineffectual aurors.

* * *

They awoke. Their master was dead. They could feel it. Sleep pulled them back to their pillows. Time enough to mourn in the morning.

Late that morning, when both were awake, a bottle of firewhiskey was removed from a pocket and three tumblers transfigured from empty crisp packets were generously filled.

"To James, may he Wield we—"

"James and Lily are dead," came the witch's stricken voice from the front door. She had stepped out to see if the Prophet had arrived yet.

They turned to her, their faces now as pale as hers. "But… Harry?"

"Alive. The paper is calling him the Boy-Who-Lived. Survived the killing curse. Albus has placed him somewhere it seems."

The drinks were held up but the toast changed. "To the Potters. Your losses are the worst tragedy."

"It says all Death Eaters are being rounded up," she said.

"Then our duties in England are complete," the second wizard said, revealing an Egyptian accent. "I extend the offer of hospitality you have extended me."

They accepted his offer. They had no claim to Harry Potter and had committed many crimes in their Master's employ. They had only stayed in England after his disappearance because they could feel he still lived. If the next Wielder needed them, he would send his messengers to retrieve them.


	2. DARK

DE002RK

Harry Potter awoke. He had not slept soundly in some time. For months since his tenth birthday, he had had dreams. Disturbing in a way. Not because they frightened him as the rare dream of a woman pleading for his safety and the green light did. But because he seemed to be doing terrible things to even worse people.

Tonight's dream had been one of the more violent. He had grabbed a woman by her throat and brought his face close, threatening to tear her very soul from her body and leave her the living dead, forced to do his bidding, unable to stop herself as she slaughtered her own children.

She had capitulated quickly and told him everything, how she had done a ritual to help summon a djinn, binding it to an amphora with compulsion charms on it to have it be gifted to Winston Churchill.

He realized then the woman's outfit had been familiar. It was some sort of red leather dress but it also had Nazi markings on it.

He carefully pulled up a loose floorboard and flicked on a keychain flashlight then used its feeble light to find a sheath of paper hidden underneath the floor along with his few treasures. Once he had it out, he flipped through the makeshift notebook until he found the first empty page. He carefully wrote down this dream, trying to remember everything.

He was awoken again by stomping and giggling. His cousin always stomped on the stairs but only giggled if it was still dark out.

 _Surprised he didn't just piss the bed_ , Harry thought, imagining his cousin doing as he usually did to make more laundry for Harry to do before school.

"Get up you lazy brat! Dudley and your Uncle need their breakfast."

"I'm lazy?" Harry muttered as he dressed. "You're the lazy fucking cunt."

He blinked when he realized what he muttered. _Maybe the dreams are influencing me?_ He snorted _. For the better._

Dishes done, he grabbed his satchel from its hiding place in the shed then dashed to school, sure he would be late again because Aunt Petunia was too lazy to do dishes herself and Vernon saw Harry as free labour.

He ended up sliding into class just as the bell sounded, very out of breath.

The Jennifers—the four most popular girls in school were also all named Jennifer and were a giggly little clique—tittered at him and he threw a dark glare at them. They stopped smirking.

He passed up his homework—carefully curated to get just barely passing scores—then cheered up. It was the day before Halloween. The nightmare the next night would be bad, he knew, it always was at halloween, but today was also art day in class. He cheered up as his deskmate carefully setup his crayons and gestured Harry to use them too.

"Thanks, Eric."

The very dark skinned boy smiled, revealing very white teeth. He was an African-American, his father transferred to a local company and the only boy in school bigger than Dudley, and better, not afraid of him at all.

The teacher passed out construction paper and the two boys carefully drew a grid using rulers then marked the quarter inches. The teacher then led them through how to copy an image via grids.

Harry and Eric chatted softly as they copied the same image from the projector, a happy looking bat.

Both boys thought the other's bat looked better then Eric taught Harry how to draw Batman's logo.

By lunchtime, the class had finished coloring their choices and Harry and Eric both headed to the library. Eric passed over his latest comics and Harry devoured them while the other boy read The Lord of the Rings.

With school over, Harry wasn't expected home until five-forty so he took the long route to the local library and spent his time doing his homework carefully. Ever since the dreams had begun, he had had the occasional dream where he was telling himself he expected much of himself while at school though he didn't understand why he was wearing a dress. Since then, he had worked hard to do his homework right, realizing his dream-self had been right. His future did require a fine education if he was to do what he dreamed of.

Done, he put his stuff away and went to the reference section and opened the biggest dictionary and looked for a word from his dream: ostroppy.

Half a dozen minutes of checking from osteo- to the end of ostr-, he gave up on the big dictionary and went to find a librarian. If Mrs. Ellis-Bextor was working, he was sure she would know. She was the smartest, prettiest woman in the world.

Sadly, he found only Mr. Giles was working but he wrote down the word and promised to ask people if they might know. He did know the other word and explained what a djinn was once he realized Harry wasn't asking about the liquor.

As Harry left, Giles placed the sheet on the counter so people could read it, a phonetic spelling of the word written as ah-straw-pee.

Harry thought about the word and the mental image it produced. Lightning bolts coming from his hands like from Darth Vader's evil master. Only in Harry's dream, they felt righteous, like they cleansed what he hit of the malignant taint of evil.

* * *

The two wizards and the witch were awoken by medallions they hadn't felt vibrate in a decade plus. Both wizards rolled over and went back to sleep while the witch smiled softly. Harry Potter might not be their master but they could help him, she decided.

She picked up her journal and unlocked it then began writing a plan, wondering if Young Albus might need a DADA professor since they seemed to go through them so quickly.

* * *

He was awoken again, this time by the dream. He wiped the tears away then rolled over, hugging his small pillow, wishing his aunt and her lumbering beasts were cleansed from the earth by purifying lightning.

He was only asleep for a few minutes when he was awoken by a soft "Master?" and a pale blue glow.

Harry rolled over to find a force ghost and the creatures from his dreams. The Darklings wore the same armor and carried the same wicked dagger-swords.

"Wh-what‽"

"Hello, grandson," the force-ghost said.

An hour later, Harry was almost ready to believe what they said about him being a wizard. Then his uncle came down and wrenched open the door and the Darklings disappeared as the ghost of his grandfather vanished into the floor. "Shut up!" Vernon bellowed.

Then the Darklings reappeared and Vernon screamed in fear as his bowels and bladder voided and they attacked.

Vernon was pinned to the floor by a dog like creature with glowing violet and gold eyes and black drool dripping off its impossibly long teeth. The res of the Darklings began to take on a more Gremlin-like appearance as Harry remade them in his mind.

"Strange," his grandfather's ghost said. "It felt like there was an anti-spirit charm for a second. Ahh, you constructed a felbeast! They were my favorite to use against my enemies when stealth wasn't required. Notice how their teeth are like knives? Your great-grandfather did that. Originally they had more realistic teeth but this really pushes the primeval terror button in people."

Harry swallowed on a dry throat as he nodded, holding his nose. The smell had begun to overwhelm.

* * *

In Dumbledore's office, a silver gewgaw began to vibrate and steam, looking much like a kettle made to look like a pyramid. The alert that something was wrong at the Dursley's had begun to signal. Again. Then shut off after four seconds. Dumbledore never noticed the runeset Lucius Malfoy had carved into a number of the devices over the years when visiting the school and the headmaster was called away from his office. The man had presumed they were linked to the school and hoped whatever they did would allow him to pressure out his political rival. Had he known what they really were for he would have stolen them and hidden away the child to raise as a Purebloodist.

* * *

Petunia, awoken by the bed no longer being compressed to her husband's side and a crashing sound, reached over to see how warm his side was. Cold. "Vernon?" she called then stood, pulling on her favorite woolen robe.

She screamed when she stepped out of the bedroom and disturbingly long claws strapped to a hand that looked straight from a horror film covered her face and a whispered voice menaced her ear. "Keep your mouth shut or I'll rape you to death over the next week, forcing your son to help," the stranger said, licking her ear with a tongue that scraped like a cat's.

She saw her nephew sitting on the couch, looking strangely serene with a ghost—at least she was sure it was one from Lily's letter describing the school her first year—watching her and saying something to the boy who nodded, then she took in the other creatures. Some were a foot tall, some two feet tall, four were nearly seven feet tall. All looked like the green things from that movie Dudley had watched so obsessively once she had realized Harry found the creatures frightening and had told her son. But all she could think about was what felt like a penis at least twice as thick as her husband's fist shoved into her back, twitching and pulsing with the beat of the thing's heart behind her.

The ghost floated towards Petunia and it began to speak softly. "For the things you've done to my grandson, I would happily torture you in ways at would break your mind slowly. And i would do so to everyone you know, letting them know you're the reason. But your, and your son's, blood might be useful so I grant you your life, pitiful as it may be. But they will be watching you."

She screamed in pain as a blade just barely pierced her skin, enough to allow a Darkling to enter her bloodstream and transit to the brain. Forevermore Harry would be able to track his aunt. And then another Darkling was introduced to Vernon's psyche but this one would act, not just inhabit. Vernon's Darkling would slowly and carefully drive the man to distraction. If the man didn't die in an accident, an aneurysm or heart attack would be stimulated. The Darklings had taken the measure of the man and found him wanting.

* * *

Albus had returned from the the Great Hall, groaning a little bit at how full he felt—the house-elves had kept making new lemon flavored puddings appear on the table and he had felt duty-bound to sample all—when three of the gewgaws in his office exploded into action then went silent. His eyes narrowed and he grimaced then cast a vomiting jinx on himself. Wiping his mouth, he regretted it but needed to be less logy. "I need Shacklebolt, Madam Bones, and Moody here as quick as you can, if you would?"

Fawkes disappeared in a flash as Albus vanished his sick, took a couple sips of various potions, then picked up one of the gewgaws, narrowing his eyes at seeing the faint runeset scratched into place. He made a mental note to test the work against former students as Fawkes appeared with Kingsley in his nightgown, a book on muggle football players in one hand, his wand in the other. "Albus?"

"Potter's house may be under attack."

Kingsley transfigured his nightgown into something a little more suitable as Moody appeared, cursing a blue streak but at least still dressed.

Before Albus could explain anything again, Fawkes reappeared with Amelia Bones, the woman wearing a transparent nightie that barely covered her backside, stay-up stockings, and very high heels. Her face was bright red and she was cursing Fawkes just as loudly as Albus looked up at the ceiling.

Moody turned his back and grabbed a cloak from Albus's coatrack while Kingsley admired his boss's backside, wondering why she had a series of scars that looked like the lines muggles put on all their products for sale on the small of her back. Then he realized he was essentially ogling her and looked to the ceiling as well.

"Harry Potter's home may be under attack," he interrupted them then transfigured their clothing into more appropriate robes for what they were about to do then cast muggle-repelling charms before picking up a strange looking item that said Bop-It and held it out for them.

Their transit via portkey was different than normal. The spells protecting the Dursley household stopped only those with magic who wished to harm the family but also had taken on a half-life of their own, absorbing a portion of Harry's latent potential, becoming nigh-sentient that night due to Harry's nascent Darkness Mastery.

They appeared in a home that smelled of many cats given too much free reign. "Come," Albus said, nodding at Arabella Figg. "Good evening, Arabella. Please excuse us."

She nodded, setting down the crate of kittens she held on the side table in the short hallway.

She watched them walk out the door, fighting an urge to look away. She recognized the effect of muggle-repelling charms and wondered what was happening.

The door crashed open and Harry turned to look even as the dozen Darklings shifted to protect him, pushing him towards the kitchen, his grandfather's ghost floating forward to see better.

Then Albus saw the creatures and recognized Charlus Potter. He whipped around and all three of his allies were body-bound and stunned then roped together. "Get them out of here," Albus told Charlus.

"I'm not the Wielder Albus. And we have much to discuss. Memory charm them and get them out of here."

Twenty minutes later Albus thanked the three for humoring his mistake and watched them Apparate from the backyard of 4 Privet Drive then turned to see Darklings—unlike those he had seen before—emerge from the shadows. The only reason he was sure they were Darklings was due to the lack of color in their bodies save their eyes which were all a vibrant purple orbs with golden flecks or flashes occasionally. Their bodies were shades of grey and black and drank light.

Harry stood behind four of the large Darklings, watching the intruder be approached by his grandfather's ghost.

"WHY is he HERE‽ Where is my son?"

"James peri—"

"I know what happened to my heir! I saw it happen. I was stuck in my redoubt in a failing body but I could still scry! Where is my adopted son‽ Sirius was to raise him with the Longbottoms's help."

"Sirius was arrested and sentenced for betraying the Potters—"

"If I only had hands I would throttle you!" Charlus hissed. "Sirius and Pettigrew swapped the secret! I saw it all. Why didn't this come out at Sirius's trial?"

At this revelation, Albus was stymied. "I do not know. I wasn't the Ch—oh Circes, Crouch was Chief Warlock… until his son was revealed as one of Voldemort's right hands. He did many trials as tribunals or closed court judicial sessions."

"Harry, my boy, what's that cleaning compound that kills everything?" Charlus asked his grandson.

He looked over from where the Keeper—eldest Darkling and the keeper of the Darkling's Book of Shadows—was giving Harry a lesson on summoning a shadowblade and suggested "Bleach?"

"Yes, that was it. Someone needs to dump bleach into the genepool…."

Albus sighed. He respected his old friend and former teacher but Potters were always too willing to cut out whole trees when just a single limb might be the only infestation.

"Where are the Dursleys?"

"Sleeping," Charlus said. "And controlled. Permanently. The only reason I haven't killed them is I loved my daughter-in-law and she's blood." He had watched them and aside from a few moments where he couldn't cancel scries in time—learning his son liked his wife to shove two fingers up his arse to stimulate his prostate had been an unwelcome revelation, also leading him to wonder if that was an inherited trait—he had come to love her like a daughter.

"Controlled how?"

"The same way I tormented you in the thirties."

Albus sighed then chuckled morbidly. "Very well. And you won't allow Harry to stay here?"

"He was to never come here in the first place! Harry, please come here?"

Harry nodded and thanked the Keeper who gave a disturbingly toothy grin then the short gladius-like blade disappeared as he stopped concentrating on it. "Harry, this is Albus Dumbledore, professor and—why do you still use the title professor, actually?"

Albus chuckled again though much more lightly this time. "Administration is a job, teaching is a career and life-calling."

"Fair point. My time as a professor was very fulfilling.

"He is also Headmaster of Hogwarts, a school at which your father has paid your tuition already. It was very amusing when you made him count it all out."

"Yes, well, sometimes I do like to repay the more troublesome of my students in kind when they are no longer my students."

"I'll explain it later," Charlus promised. "Now, is the house Remus used on his monthlies still empty?"

"Yes but it's rather… distressed."

"Oh, no, we won't stay there. It was one of Sirius's cache sites. His tent and more supplies should be there. We'll stay in our family's inn in Bad Wolf Bay."

"Ahh, the pub in Wales?"

Charlus nodded. "It's still run by the Walkers, yes?"

"Technically. But now it's the Barqs running it. Their eldest girl married an American wizard and they took over running it when Marius and Ellistana elected to purchase the pub in Godric's Hollow."

Charlus nodded and said, "Good for them! Keeper, the list for Albus. People I need contacted who can help us."

"Your fire-team?" Albus asked, looking at the list. The top three names were Charlus's main team, the few people who knew about the Darkness and who Wielded it.

"Ah, you never officially met them, right? Yes, the top three. And if you could pave the way if they're wanted for some reason?"

"I shall high to the Ministry next. There is much to do. How will you get to Hogsmeade and on?"

"A Ministry employee will arrange for a driver to pick us up."

Albus sighed. "Of course I will. It is good to see you. Even in your diminished form."

"Only for a few years, just to get Harry running, maybe until he's got a son, then I'll continue on."

Harry blushed at the son part. There had been a very graphic discussion about how babies came to be from the first blossoms of attraction to the spurt of passions to the pulse of love/fear caused by the first cry of a newborn.

Dawn was blushing when the iceberg white Rolls Royce Silver Cloud III pulled up in front of the house.

The driver opened the back door as Harry approached. "Good morning, Sir. Chief Warlock Dumbledore has left a note for you on the console inside. As soon as you're ready let me know."

Harry nodded and slipped in. He held the cold crystal away from his body for a moment then let it slip back. It was a piece of quartz he had found years ago and his grandfather had been delighted at seeing it. Quartz had a spirit-retaining property that would allow the ghost to better travel instead of following along at his own speed.

Harry opened the tented letter. It was a suggestion to have breakfast in the muggle world and fifteen pounds. "Do you know if there's a McDonald's near Diagon Alley?"

"Yes, we'll be there shortly."

"McDonald's? Good scottish fare? Good lad," Charlus said as Harry hung the crystal from the back of the seat in front of him.

A stifled laugh came from the driver.

"It's fast food," Harry corrected. "Burgers and chips and stuff like that. But they have pancakes and sausage and egg sandwiches in the morning."

"If I may?" the driver asked.

"If you have a better suggestion," Charlus said. "Please."

"Platform 9 & ¾ has become a travel point and has a very nice pub in it. I doubt anyone up this early will be awake enough to recognize Master Potter, Wizard Potter."

"Call me Charlus, lad. I'm too old and dead to worry about niceties."

The driver ended up showing him how to get through to the platform then joined him for breakfast at Charlus's insistence so the ghost could pick the wizard's mind.

Harry looked around the platform. There were a handful of sleepy looking witches and wizards in various types of robes seeming to move on autopilot though there was one group of very animated witches chatting and laughing as they waited to use the public floos.

"They made the platform the central travel point," Wizard William Wallace—Harry's driver—said. "About four years ago. It made it easier. If you're returning from overseas you can go through immigrations and customs much easier in one central point. Of course traveling on September 1st is a terrible idea unless it's in the evening."

Charlus chuckled while Harry looked confused then realized what they meant.

Opposite from where they entered from the muggle side and across the tracks was the open air pub.

Inside a girl who looked younger than Harry and a boy that Harry thought might be a bit older were sitting in a far booth, writing or drawing. He realized they looked like the waitress's kids when she walked up to their table and smiled. "What may I get you today?"

Harry closed the menu he had been looking at and even though his stomach was still a bit upset from the events of the night involving his aunt and her husband, he ordered the special. Wallace did the same.

It turned out to be a large Belgian waffle with caramelized peaches and whipped cream, patties of sausage as thick as his hand, three huge slices of Ayrshire bacon, a mound of potatoes that he was sure took all that were harvested in Idaho to make, and two eggs that covered a plate of their own. The maple syrup, country gravy, and freshly made marmalade was still hot and just as delicious.

Harry had no idea how he was going to eat it all but was game to try, especially after his first bites of each. It was all the best tasting food he had ever had save for the potatoes. "Gotta be a house-elf helping cook," Wallace said as he savored his own then explained house-elves to a curious Harry.

When the witch came by to ask if they wanted more tea, he nodded then handed her a sheet of parchment. "This is my recipe for potatoes. I thought your cook might like it. Everything else is the best I've ever had!"

He was taking his last bite of sausage when a wizard came out and walked to him, holding the recipe. "This yours?"

"Yeah."

"This recipe is brilliant! What's your name, kid?"

"Umm, Harry Potter," he replied before Wallace could suggest he not.

The wizard blinked as he automatically looked for the scar then realized he was really looking at a hero of the Wizarding world. "You have anymore recipes?" He asked hopefully, wondering if he should request a signature too. His daughter would be so annoyed if he didn't. He decided to wait until September 1st, presuming the boy would come in then too.

He wrote out his favorite recipes then they left the pub.

Harry heard a loud squeal then turned to see the little girl and the boy were standing at the doorway, looking at him.

"Remember, you're rather famous. Perhaps some shopping first?" Wallace suggested. "For a hooded sweatshirt?"

Instead of shopping for muggle clothing, they ended up in Diagon Alley. Like all old families, aside from clothing passed down to servants—and since Potters had had house-elves for centuries that never happened—nothing was gotten rid of. In the Potter family vault, they found the old clothing of Harry's father and Harry hesitated but put on the robe.

Charlus sighed. "That robe was from when your dad was eight. Gotta get you fed up. Flip up the hood, see if the enchantments still work."

Harry did so and the robes turned a nondescript brown.

"Good," Charlus said. "Those robes will change every time you flip up the hood but they scramble your magic a bit every time. Did you feel anything?"

Harry shook his head. "No. It felt fine."

"Hmm, try it again. Think about the different sensations of your body."

A dozen tries later, Harry thought he felt something like a prickling in his fingertips.

"Yes, that's the feeling," Charlus said upon Harry reporting it. "Pack up some more of the robes. And lemme see what else we might need."

Charlus floated off, followed by a Darkling.

"What do you think of the new form?"

The Darkling carefully worked his joints as he moved. "It feels a bit more dangerous. The Master will be a good Master."

"He was born to it, after all," Charlus teased. "If only…."

He had the Darkling place all the Potter school books from the last century into a crate, a potions kit, and a gold filigreed cauldron—it was a master's level cauldron with Dorea's qualifications engraved upon it, a gift from her parents upon her Potions Mastery.

He turned and saw them then. Four dead House Elves. "Ahh, prepare them to be honored." They had done their last duties, collecting and storing the Potters' properties upon their deaths then been trapped inside the vault.

The Darkling did so, wrapping each one in a drop cloth taken from the paintings nearby.

Charlus nodded at them and had a short whispered conversation with the painting of his father who expressed concern at his fear of death until Charlus explained exactly why he remained.

He found Harry looking at the wall of brooms. "Ahh, looks like your father's broom survived!"

"Why so many brooms?"

"We fly on them, lad! Your dad was brilliant. Your mother was pretty good, too. I watched their first flying class together. And I'm sure you will be too. But for now we'll leave them there. No safe place to fly where we'll be. Let's see. Clothes, books, a few supplies, the honored…, ahh, I know. We need to take out some money."

At the front of the vault were a dozen refrigerator sized crates filled with coins. "Sweep about five hundred galleons–they're the gold, a hundred silver sickles, and fifty bronze knuts into that bag there. We'll buy you a good moneybag in a bit."

Harry did as told and asked, "How much is this worth in rea—err, muggle money?"

"Ooh, good thinking. Not sure really, I never had to exchange it that way. Better sweep another thousand galleons into another bag. We'll need money for some muggle stuff. Tell me more about McDonalds."

"Umm, it's an American company," Harry said as he did as told. "They have a clown mascot. Their food is mostly burgers, chips, and fizzy drinks."

"I had a muggle fizzy drink once! It was called Cocoa-Cola? I think. Been eighty years or so. We have fizzy drinks too. Butterbeer is very popular. Pumpkin juice comes in a fizzy version too. Your dad really liked that." He kept on reminiscing and Harry listened happily to it all.

With everything collected, Harry pushed the crate to the vault door then once it was a couple inches out, Wallace was able to help pull it the rest of the way.

"Find anything else interesting when you were looking around?" Charlus asked.

"Umm, yeah. There were some really cool looking masks in one area."

"Ahh, those are essence masks. I'll be teaching you how to make those over the next couple years once you have a good base to work off."

"Essence masks?" Wallace queried. "I think I've heard of those before."

"They start out as a heavily engraved crystal that you lay over a face. In a short amount of time, they sample the essence of the person and create an utterly unique mask. Potters have used them as growth measurements like how we measure James's height on a door jamb every year. Unless something traumatic happens, the differences between each year is minimal but at the same time, rather telling."

* * *

Cornelius took the tea and took a long swallow then passed it back to the functionary he refused to learn the name of. Instead, he opened the daily diary held out to him by an undersecretary.

He skimmed it haphazardly as he saw it before leaving the afternoon before.

Then he saw that Dumbledore had come in to the Ministry at one AM after three Ministry officials had disabled their tracking charms at Hogwarts for over an hour.

He saw that Dumbledore's aides were burning up the floors between his offices and the Magical Law Enforcement Records department.

Sighing, he decided to head down there. Albus spent little time in the Ministry, he was rather busy with too many jobs.

A niggling thought introduced by someone intruded but it slipped from his mind, leaving only its oily taint as a secretary smiled at him brightly. Cornelius smiled back, imagining her under his desk.

When he walked into Albus's office, he saw the man had dozens of Death Eater folders open. "Albus!"

"Ahh, Cornelius, good morning." Then he looked up and their eyes locked.

Albus fought not to grimace at the mental image that was strongest on Fudge's mind, a witch, just eighteen Albus knew, doing things that Fudge's wife refused to do.

He cursed his hubris in training his legilimency so often that he performed it passively without trying.

"What brings you to the Ministry? I had hoped to pick your mind this evening but now is as good a time as any."

"With Harry Potter coming back soon I wished to make sure all Krups were docked and Snidgets pinned. There are some inconsistencies in cases. By making sure that all are perfect, you'll have some good things to say to the Prophet. Here, take a look at this."

Cornelius read the notes and his eyes widened. Albus had figured out a way to fine convicted Death Eaters once more and make the Ministry at least four hundred galleons per convict though it required a veritaserum questioning at the Ministry. Even with transport and overtime costs Cornelius calculated huge polling numbers in the next election.

"Fantastic! This will make me—err, the Ministry, I mean—look wonderfully productive."

"I hope you'll be at the questionings. And I thought we'd open certain ones to the public, for those affected by them. Such as Madam Longbottom or the like."

"Hmmm, yes, I can see how that could be spun well."

Albus grimaced at Cornelius's views on things.

"Now how can I help you?" Albus asked him.

"Ahh, well there's the issue with the Bulgarians. They want to hold it at their school."

Albus grimaced. Restarting the Triwizard Tournament was something he had fought against but the European political bloc had been all for it save himself. Nonetheless, Magical Britain had created, first hosted it, and had been the next host in sequence. It was their right for the new tournament. "Perhaps a concession," Albus suggested. "We've held up certain trade issues. Perhaps a hint that we could be seen to allowing trade in certain items again?"

Cornelius nodded and wheeled, off to discuss it with their Ambassador to the Bulgarians while Albus thought about his current endgame, Sirius.

A fresh sheet of parchment and he began writing.

 _Reparations_ was first. Then he followed that with _GGGGGGGGGG_ , wincing at the thought of the cost if Sirius was truly innocent.

 _Mind-healing_ : then he added Claudia Winkinglemons, a medi-witch that had trained as an obliviator in France as well as having muggle mental health qualifications. Her clinic was where they left a compulsion to go to in muggles who were semi-resistant to obliviation when they needed their memories touched up.

Sirius is the rightful guardian for Harry as long as he's ready, Albus mused, sucking on his candy quill. But he's not read—ahhh, Remus and Andromeda will be perfect to help, he decided and wrote down their names. He was sure Andromeda would be ecstatic to learn Sirius wasn't as dark as his name suggested. And he remembered young Nymphadora had adored her cousin.

 _Security_ : Wallace was a good start and he added the man's name then wrote GREYSTAVE, an American private security firm run by an old friend of Albus's.

 _Some place safe_ : Even with Harry having come into his family inheritance, conversations with Charlus over the years had led him to understand that the first three or four years were formative as the Wielder gained Mastery over it all.

Albus wondered if it would be possible to recenter the wards on the property in such a way that Sirius and Harry could live nearby while still protecting the Dursleys.

He scowled. He had expected Harry to know about his parents, magic, and his world and yearn to return. Learning just how Harry lived had made it rather difficult for him to argue with Charlus about how the Darklings had treated the Dursleys.

 _Tutoring_ : Charlus was a good professor, Albus remembered but someone alive and trustworthy could be useful. He had a eureka moment and wrote two names.

* * *

After a short shopping trip in the alley, mostly to get some potion supplies and to stop in certain shops of people Charlus wanted to say hello to, Harry was sitting in Ollivander's shop, waiting as the wizard helped an older wizard and some witches replace their wands.

Harry tried not to look like he was listening as they told Ollivander what happened.

"I don't know how it did but... The runes were perfect. The alignment of cardinals was flawless. The Akashic meter showed that it was the perfect moment to begin."

Ollivander nodded. "Yes, sympathetic magic is rather unforgiving. Did you verify the candles were beeswax, the wicks of cotton, and the candle holders leaded crystal?"

The witches blanched. " _Leaded crystal?_ " one squeaked.

Ollivander nodded. "Yes, the ritual you were doing requires a metal element. And lead is malleable, a good sympathetic metal while crystal is hard and transparent, an excellent metaphorical filter. What source did you use?"

"Hopzinger's guide."

"Ahh, then you must have used an original copy. He fixed that ritual for the next edition. Come in next month, I can have his latest edition for you then." While he was primarily a wandsmith, Ollivander had a Mastery in Harvest rituals of which fertility rituals overlapped heavily.

All three soon had new wands—Ollivander got down all the wands with the woods they had originally been matched to—then once they were gone, the man turned to Harry.

"How can I be of serv—"

Charlus flew out of the crystal and nodded at the wandsmith. "Ollie."

"Charlie!"

"What ritual were they performing?"

Ollivander turned his eyes to Harry as the boy took his hood off. "Fertility ritual. His wife can't so her sister was supposed to be the one impregnated while they copulated." They were discussing it in a public setting, Ollivander saw no reason not to mention it.

Harry's eyes went wide at the mental image.

"Arousing," Charlus said dryly and Ollivander looked back to the ghost who snickered.

"He looks just like his father save his mother's eyes. He's technically too young for a wand," he reminded the ghost.

"Nonetheless, you owe me a favor. Also, I had an idea a few years ago but couldn't make it happen. You do the work on the prototype, Harry gets our name on them and seventy-five percent of the profits."

Harry held out the sheath of parchment for the wandsmith to take.

As he read, Harry looked around the shop, reading the ends of boxes. He half-heard his grandfather's ghost ask "Did you ever figure out that diamond coating idea?" as he saw most used dragon heartstring or unicorn hair but there were the occasional different cores, he read. Nundu whisker. Frog spine. Occamy egg. Hag claw. Goblin fang.

Harry's eyes widened as he imagined Ollivander wrestling a goblin to get a fang out of its mouth with a pair of rusty pliers.

Wallace had just entered and saw his expression and looked at the small grouping of wands and chuckled. "Goblin fang? That's a type of flower. It crystallizes once its reached peak bloom. Great mental image to get a real fang, right? Same thing I thought as a kid here with my older sister getting her wand."

Harry nodded then turned at his name said by the ghost.

Ollivander held a measuring tape.

"Why did he measure me?" Harry asked, admiring his new wand again as they were waiting on their lunch in the Leaky Cauldron.

"He's been doing so for decades. Trying to figure out how to match magicals with their wands better. Magic is very difficult to quantify though."

When he saw Harry's quizzical expression, he said, "Remind me tonight during dinner."

Harry nodded.

The door shivered and opened as Charlus flitted back into the crystal.

Harry's and Wallace's food floated into the room and settled on the table.

"How come your wand is a knife?" Harry asked Wallace as they ate.

"It's actually a knife that fits around the wand," Wallace said. "It's an old Central-American design. A friend who moved there after Hogwarts sent it to me. It also helps protect the wand from being accidentally broken."

"Ollivander finished his diamond varnish for wands. It's rather expensive though," Charlus said as he floated out of the crystal. "We'll have it done to yours Harry, and yours if you wish, Wizard Wallace. You've been rather helpful."

"Dumbledore assigned me to you for the foreseeable future. What's a diamond varnish?"

"About sixty years ago he and I discussed a way to protect wands after I snapped another wand. As his dad fitted me with a new one, he and I discussed how diamonds were very hard. He bought some and began testing it.

"Eventually he figured it out. It takes a visually flawless 1.1 carat diamond and a few potions to melt it then the wand is coated in the melted diamond and allowed to reharden, creating an impervious coating that allows magic to still be cast."

"How easy is it to snap a wand?" Harry asked, carefully putting his back in its box.

"Not that easy," Wallace said. "Eat lad."

As Harry ate, Charlus outlined his education for the next few months. "We'll get you to the level of most kids going in. That means a basic knowledge of the family history at the public level, some potions knowledge, how to write essays, and some spellwork. Your dad knew a dozen or so spells that I knew about. He likely knew a few more. We'll get you proficient in a couple. And there's a list of things I expect you to know by the end of seven years like I expected of your dad."

Harry nodded. This was his dream come true, even if it was a lot more supernatural than he expected.

A look into the corner and he saw the eyes of a Darkling and the teeth appeared, gleaming as the creature smiled. He saw a shape that might have been a book and gave a brief nod to the one called the Keeper. It recorded all knowledge the Darklings learned on their own or from a Wielder.

With their meal done, Wallace led him out to the waiting vehicle and they were on their way to Hogsmeade.

The day was too foggy for Harry to see the castle so instead he watched carefully as Wallace explained the spells he did that Charlus said needed to be done.

Fifteen minutes later four decrepit looking backpacks, a case of tinned food, some canteens, and a pair of brooms joined Harry's supplies in the boot.

"That pack was your father's," Charlus said softly as Harry lifted the dried blood colored pack.

Harry kept it aside and carried it into the backseat then they were off to Wales with a wide-eyed Harry very glad he had unconsciously put on the seat-restraint as the car hit 140 MPH and began jinking left and right around cars that seemed stationary.

* * *

Harry awoke. He had laid down as soon as the woman had shown him to his suite on the third floor of the inn. The basement was the pub, the ground floor held a restaurant and a candy maker's shoppe with the first and second floors being guest rooms, the family occomodations and the Potter's visiting suite were the top floor. The room was mostly dark but as soon as he opened his eyes candles flickered alight and the window sashes pulled the curtains back, revealing the small magical quarter of the Welsh village his family had lived in seven centuries ago.

Dressed in his muggle clothes, he headed down to the dining room, realizing it was too late for clothes shopping like he had thought to do on arriving in the village. It can wait until tomorrow, anyway, he decided as Mrs. Barq set a menu down in front of him. "Evening, Harry. What would you like to drink?"

"Umm, fizzy pumpkin juice?"

He had liked the flat drink at the Leaky Cauldron. It had been mildly sweet, reminding him of the watered down unsweetened apple juice at school.

"Of course. Wizard Wallace returned a short while ago and is in his room if you need him." Wallace had let the woman assume he was Harry's valet and guardian.

A short dinner of half a burger and hand-cut chips and then Harry went back up to his room.

As soon as he closed and locked the door, he saw the sashes come undone and the windows were covered then Darklings stood along the wall, shoving and cursing each other.

Then the Keeper came into the room, looking less like a Gremlin than before. Then Harry noticed the rest weren't as Gremliny as before as well.

"Why do you look different?"

"We're amorphous until you've created our visual design fully in your mind," the Keeper replied who looked at the waiting Darklings, pointed at three, then said, "you rest, begone."

"Tonight we begin your training in Shadowwalking, the Wielder's ability to step from shadows to shadows and eventually travel to the Redoubt."

Harry sat down near a shadow then squinted as he tried to read the Keeper's spidery handwriting as two small Darklings held the massive tome in place.

Finally, Harry was ready and stepped into a shadow then willed himself to disappear.

He was about to ask a Darkling to move the mirror so he could see into it when his grandfather's ghost floated into the room. "Ahh, Keeper. Where's the lad? I've got an idea."

"First Shadowwalk practice, master. The Master is in the north corner."

He turned to look as Harry willed himself out of the shadow.

"Oh, well done. as for my idea, I thought you could build something I designed. We can have Wallace send off for the parts—totally should have bought you an owl—and you won't have to carry a chilly crystal anymore."

Harry nodded, not sure what he meant about the owl.

"What is it?"

"It's kind of a spirit trap but instead of destroying a spirit, it holds it in place, hidden in a watch."

Harry sat down at the desk and began writing, sketching what his grandfather suggested, redoing it a few times until he finally could redo it all on one sheet with a list of what was required.

He went to give it to Wallace and asked him to get the items when he could. He was about to ask what his grandfather meant by an owl then Wallace yawned and Harry did as well and he said, "Night, Wizard Wallace."

In his suite, Harry asked, "Why was Mr. Ollivander a mister but others are wizard?"

"Honorific that fell out of fashion a century ago. I prefer using it and doing so is a sign of respect. Ollie never really liked it."

Harry took a long, tepid bath—he was unused to hot water but made a mental note to try to get used to them and hot showers—thinking about how the shadows had swirled over his view, obscuring but then somehow making a strange x-ray like effect of things.

He made a note to ask his grandfather. "I'm the first Wielder to have a previous Wielder alive," he mused aloud.

"Master," came a Darkling's voice and Harry saw its eyes in the shadows of the fold of the towel hanging on the wall.

He shifted his flannel to hide his groin. "Yes, Keeper?"

"The old master wants to know if the new Master would pick up information on how technology of muggles has changed in case it might be useful."

Harry, followed by Wallace, walked into the shop and picked up a five pack of tee-shirts in primary colors and black and white, a couple packs of undergarments, then went over to look at their trousers as Wallace eyed the lad then picked up four hooded sweatshirts in black with discreet sports logos. "Harry, are you a football fan?"

"Arsenal," he replied. His aunt's husband and his cousin followed Man U and Tottenham. Following their rivals was only natural.

Wallace carried over the hooded sweatshirt and held it up for Harry to look at.

It was all black with red and gold felt outlines of black embroidery on a weird design from what Harry was used to. "That logo is wrong, isn't it?"

"This is their original crest design."

Harry nodded and added it to the pile then carried two pairs of black denim trousers and a pair of blue ones to the counter to pay for it all. "No shoes?" Wallace asked.

"I'll wait to get new ones for school this summer. Grandfather said that his shoemaker is brilliant."

Wallace shifted and flicked his wand out then cast a scourgify on the bag of clothing once the woman handed it over.

Outside, Harry asked, "What spell did you cast?"

"Cleaning spell. It removes tags and kind of pre-washes the clothes so they're more comfortable. There's the village's bookstore."

Inside, Harry looked for the books his grandfather had been interested in. He found a few books on various things and as he paged through the Idiot's Guide to Computers he wondered if a magical version could be built.

Sitting on his bed, Harry tried to recreate the feel of his silk bedsheets using the Darkness to create a shirt of silk.

He had been sitting there, attempting it for nearly an hour and only getting an uncomfortable hair-shirt when he saw a fray on the duvet and wondered if he should start small.

He started with the image of a fine thread, strong enough to hold up a ten thousand pound weight on its own but as thin as spidersilk.

He imagined it being woven together like on the loom he had seen on a school field trip then opened his eyes to find a sheet of black silk on his hand, drinking in the candlelight.

The curtains wavered from the window being open a bit and a ray of light flashed across his hand, burning away the silk. His disappointment was burned away like his creation by the realization it had worked.

He couldn't wait until his grandfather returned to tell and show what he had been able to do.

* * *

Wallace got the last item in the shopping list and wrapped the receipts and change into a change purse then apparated to the Ministry.

When he entered the Transport and Floo Department, he saw his boss making her way towards him, fuming. Literally.

"Where have you been‽"

"On special assignment."

" _Set. By. Who‽_ " she hissed.

"Set by me," Albus Dumbledore said, walking into the room behind Wallace. "Wizard Wallace, please return to your duty as quickly as possible. Witch Sunderjoint, a moment if you please."

Her pink cheeks had gone distinctly pale as blood drained from her face in a fight or flight reaction. "S-sir. I didn't know—"

"Perhaps if you read the memos on your desk before attempting to throw your weight around?" Albus said softly. "I need these signed." She signed them on autopilot, mortified at making a fool of herself in front of Dumbledore when she had been attempting to establish her authority in her new job.

"Thank you," he said then swept out of the Department, nodding to the few of the staff who were at their desks.

Wallace fell into step by the Headmaster and held out the parchment list.

"Ahh, a spirit trap in a watch? Intriguing. And a good show of skills while not being overly difficult since it's more of a directed puzzle than an OWLs test."

"Do I need to pick up anyone else?"

"No. These are just Customs releases. Thank you, though."

Wallace split off and headed towards the elevators.

* * *

Harry thanked Mrs. Barq for his lunch and walked her back to the door then settled at the small table as his grandfather appeared. "I forgot to explain the measurements thing yesterday." Harry nodded.

"Magic is very difficult to quantify. We can really only do so by the ease at which one magical person can do something compared to another. Albus is very good at magic, therefore people assume he's stronger than others.

"But I've seen magicals who struggle to do even the simplest charms cast a difficult charm like the patronus. A spell to create a corporeal feeling of pure happiness to drive away minor demons. So trying to measure magic is perhaps impossible."

"Then why did Mr. Ollivander try?"

"He's not really trying to quantify magic, he's attempting to create a chart of characteristics of magicals to make matching students faster. You took quite a long time AND damaged the shop some. Now imagine having to do so with fifty to a hundred new students each summer?"

Harry nodded. "What about making wands? Can people make their own?"

"Anything can be a focus BUT there are a dozen really good magical woods and pairing them with magical cores helps focus your magic. In fact, muggle pencils? A fine makeshift focus if you replace the core of lead with occamy silver bonded charcoal. I used one like that in the forties for a couple years because I was too busy to go to Diagon Alley to get a properly attuned wand. My first wife was rather annoyed. She found it unbecoming of our station in life." He chuckled at the remembrance and was lost in thought for a few moments. "You would have liked her. She so wanted children but died from a wasting disease. She was always somewhat sickly."

Harry wrote that down in his notebook he had picked up in the village.

"The reason magic is so difficult to quantify is because magic is chaos. Our wills—or our desire—to shape the chaos into order is the center of our culture. But the chaos of magic also shapes us. The less intuitive wizards you will soon come to recognize due to the lack of chaos anointing them.

"An example was Dumbledore's robes. Eccentricity is a form of chaos. It marks him well, you understand?"

Harry nodded furiously. That example had really helped his understanding.

There was a knock at the door then they heard Wallace's voice. "Got your supplies and I picked up the last decade's backlog of Daily Prophets."

Harry let him in and thanked him then dumped the supplies out. "Good, good," Charlus said.

"Did you need a voice activated page flipping spell? I worked one up in fourth year."

"Got it covered," Charlus said. "But teach it to Harry some time."

Harry thanked him and then Wallace left.

After he finished his lunch and put the tray outside his suite, he began assembling the parts in how he'd use them.

"This is called mise en place. It's a french term for everything in its place. It's technically a term chefs use but it's useful in all aspects of life."

Harry nodded. "I know. I mean, I didn't know that word but I know the use."

"Excellent, now let's go over the instructions to build it."

Harry picked up the parchment and began reading aloud.

Charlus watched as Harry used the Darkness to create a crude scalpel—as time went by, he could tell Harry would have superlative control over the Darkness after the quickness of his silk creation— and cut the thin gold wire into four millimeter long struts.

They were set above the watch fob then Harry added the applicator to the glass etching material. Fourteen runes were drawn into the enlarged convex quartz crystal that would cover the watch face then once Charlus had nodded, Harry began the careful strokes of each rune, annoyed by how the stroke order felt unintuitive.

"Good, good. Now spit on it!" Charlus ordered. "Cover all the runes with your saliva. It will reinforce the runes while making the watch more attuned to you and therefore to me."

Harry next used silk constructed of Darkness to wipe it clean and held it out for Charlus to look at. "Excellent. Now, Finite Incantatem to cancel the engorging spell."

The quartz crystal shrunk back to its two inch diameter.

He placed it above the sapphire crystal and ticked it off on the list then picked up the tweezers and began slowly assembling the gears.

Three hours of careful assembly and Harry began the final assembly, inserting the red and gold crystals that marked the hours—ruby slivers for 3, 6, 9, and 12 and the topaz for the rest—on a black facing of obsidian that the gears could be seen through when backlit.

The fob went in next, hiding a purple gem that began to gleam white as its inherent magic set the pocket watch to the correct time and created a backlit dark purple face.

"Now let's see if it works properly. Close it then open it via the crown and press it three times in rapid succession."

Harry did as told and Charlus was pulled into the watch. "Excellent," his tinny voice said. "Shake it."

Harry did as told, smiling at the sound the ghost made.

When he stopped, Charlus made a few squeaking sounds then looked like a waterfall of iridescent light that coalesced into a pale blue ghost.

"That was disconcerting. But useful. That crystal took all my concentration to stay in."


	3. TIES

A/N:

If you enjoy my work, please, seriously debate becoming a patron. PCo

Why would I ask this of you? For the simple reason I need a new computer, I plan to start a x-over fanfic 'zine(and if you're interested in working on it, i need a staff of five or so volunteers editors, ESPECIALLY someone who knows newspaper/magazine design), my own personal health issues, and my grandmother's dementia is getting worse. These are listed in descending order of importance.

While I have a health plan, I still need money to pay for a professional caretaker to oversee her while I go to the doctor for myself. And I have none of that as we live off of her Social Security, Widowers benefit's, and what little I can make off of freelance work.

I'm also posting this chapter much earlier than I planned.

* * *

Charlie Weasley blinked as he stared at the phoenix. "Fawkes? Are my brothers okay?" He sang softly then kicked a letter towards him. "Oh. Duh."

He flicked it open. "Oh." The Headmaster wanted to hire him as a tutor. "Huh, I mean, I guess I could. I just finished my apprenticeship and I can take a break before beginning my journeymanship. I wonder who he wants me to tutor, though?" Fawkes sang again. "Ah, right, I'll write a reply."

~•~

Fawkes flashed into the air above a camp and flew around in a widening circle until he saw the red hair he hoped to see and began singing loudly, upsetting the goblins on purpose who disliked phoenixes due to their history of flying into goblin tunnels and stealing firestone to use in their nests.

He settled on the table in front of Bill Weasley and dropped the letter.

"Hello Fawkes. A letter for me? Did the twins blow up the school?" he asked teasingly.

He opened the letter and saw that the headmaster wanted to hire him to tutor a student to prepare him for Hogwarts.

"Huh, it does pay about ten percent more—oh, it's a sublet of my talents. I'll ask Griff." His boss had killed a griffin with only a dagger on his first outing as a graverobber in the forties and wore the griffin's claws as a necklace. It had earned him his personal public name.

The phoenix sang as Bill headed over to his boss's tent.

"Griff?"

"Yeah, Weasley?"

"Dumbledore wants to hire me," he said and handed over a second sheet of parchment.

Griff read it carefully. "Ahh. Dumbledore is not bad for a wizard. Borderline OVA."

Bill snorted in amusement. Goblins had various definitions of magicals, from the normal magical who was seen only as a source of gold going out to more useful human employees who were considered gold coming in—and treated like a goblin—to the occasional Only Vaguely Annoying magical that received the politeness due a goblin child. Few people that were OVAs realized that being treated as a goblin child instead of an equal was the least insulting insult a goblin could give.

"Sign this," Griff said, passing over a prefilled out subcontractor agreement after filling out Bill's legal name, the terms of the contract, and his pay.

"You also rated a bonus for your work this job, Weasley."

~•~

She blinked as the phoenix appeared in the kitchen then turned to look at her husband as he dropped his wand back to the table. "Dumbledore's bird?"

"Only Phoenix besides Sparky I've seen around people." A mascot for a Quidditch team.

She petted it as she removed the letter. "The Master… he remained as a ghost. He was scrying his child and saw their deaths. He wants us to come to Wales to help teach the new Master."

"I'll call Atum." The two ended up staying in Egypt due to the magical pub culture and the food and owned a home above the pub that they had bought and turned into what muggles would soon call a gastropub.

~•~

Other letters were sent more conventionally, letter transition codes hidden inside innocuous greetings designed to reactivate an intelligence network that Charlus planned to use to rebuild conventional Potter finances and power.

~•~

Remus unpacked his clothing and quickly placed them in the dresser then transfigured the lumpy mattress on the bed into a firmer, smooth mattress.

A dozen cleansing charms just to make sure then he fell onto the bed, nearly asleep until there was a knock on the door.

Grumbling, he stood and opened it, push-blade and wand in hand but hidden by the door and behind his back respectively, revealing the old witch who worked the front desk. "Letter came for you, from the British ministry."

"Oh, thank you."

He took the letter and watched her turn then closed the door.

Scowling, he wondered if this was some new fine. _For being a British werewolf abroad,_ he imagined. _The Ministry is getting worse and worse._

He set it down on the rickety table and used a charm to stabilize it before actually looking at the letter. It had Ministry markings but the wax seal of Hogwarts. _Dumbledore?_ he wondered.

The old man had tried to help Remus over the years and had arranged for him to be hired as an occasional tutor to young werewolves who were magical but couldn't attend Hogwarts as he had but most families with a werewolf child moved to other countries where it was less dangerous for them.

Flicking the letter open, he found it was more than one page then realized it also included the latest Hogwarts newsletter.

Smiling at the nostalgia it brought up, he read it first.

He was a little disappointed to see Slytherin had won so many house cups but was heartened to see the most points lost were to a pair of Gryffindors with the phrasing that led him to believe it was for pranks.

He looked at the actual letter now. A recall, time to grow up. Harry Potter needed his father's friend to grow up and be responsible.

Remus scowled then realized Albus's tone was right. He had been running from his own problems, letting others solve them, only trying to make enough to survive.

But the anger remained and Remus let loose, destroying the room.

* * *

Wallace smiled as Harry looked confused, surrounded by some of the muggle children of the village.

"How come you don't go to school?" a girl asked.

"Umm, I'm home schooling before I start at an independent school next year."

Some of the children nodded as sagely as only children could.

"Oh. Well come play with us. You're not in class right now, right?"

"Go on, Harry," Wallace said.

The two girls who seemed to be the leaders of the group pulled him along while the smallest boy in the group offered names as they moved to the nearby park.

Wallace shifted seats so he could keep an eye on Harry then lifted his copy of the Guardian, the one English paper the inn provided free.

Harry ended up spending the next two hours playing Red Rover, Hide and Seek, and football with the children until one woman came to find the group and let them know it was time to go home. Harry was made to promise to meet them after their classes the next day, too.

Wallace smirked as Harry sat down next to him. "Have fun?"

"Umm, yeah. But they're exhausting!"

"You should look into building up your stamina. I've personally found that it helps to be in good shape for casting magic." Wallace was simplifying it.

Harry nodded. "Grandfather said the same thing."

In the Inn, Harry was surprised to see people not in robes. Ever since arriving, everyone staying or dining had been obviously wizards and witches.

"Muggleborns," Mrs. Barq said when she brought Harry's dinner to his table and noticing where he was looking. "They actually own the local greengrocer so they have to dress to fit in in the village."

Harry nodded, filing that away: Some magicals worked muggle.

* * *

Charlie opened the kitchen door of the Burrow and screamed in fright. His mother was naked on her back on the butcher block and his father was plunging away, saying "Arrrr, me matey" as Molly cried out in pleasure/pain.

"Oh Merlin!" Charlie screamed.

His parents scrambled to cover themselves, Molly rushing for the stairs as Arthur pulled up his pants and resettled his robes then cast cleaning spells.

"No, no, take your time," Charlie said, hands over his eyes. "I'll just go to St. Mungo's and get an obliviation."

Before he could apparate away, Arthur grabbed his son's arm. "Oh grow up, how do you think we made you?"

"Not like that! That's _not_ how babies are made!"

Arthur turned red, realizing Charlie had been able to see what they were doing.

"Oh, _grow_ up," he decided. "Why are you here?"

"I have an appointment with Dumbledore about a tutoring position. Not sure where i'm staying yet."

"Well your room is just how you left it. Do you want some pie? Your mum made a rhubarb pie yesterday."

Charlie stared at his father as if he were mental.

~•~

Bill arrived at home to the smell of his mother's pot roast and saw that the slow cooker was sitting on the butcher block next to two half-eaten pies. He plated himself slices of the rhubarb and boysenberry pies then called out, "Mum? Gin? Ronny?"

He sat down to eat the pie, guessing his mother was at the pub she waited tables at a few days a week and Ron and Ginny with her.

Done eating, he cleaned up and walked outside to apparate to Hogsmeade.

He stopped in Honeyduke's, deciding to get the twins, Percy, Ron, and Ginny a little something and found a small purple bag with gold tassel strings filled with a dozen chocolate galleons and a random assortment of candies.

He paid for them then tucked them into a pocket where he normally kept his spellbreaker gear.

"Bill!"

He turned and smiled. Rosmerta was waving at him as she held a kidney shaped wicker basket full of produce to her side.

"What are you doing back in Hogsmeade? Last I heard, Percy said you were in Africa somewhere."

"Got a job interview to tutor a student."

Rosmerta frowned. "At school?"

"No, he starts next year, I think. The Headmaster didn't give me a lot of information."

She nodded and told him good luck then watched him go, admiring the way his distressed leather trousers wrapped his sculpted arse, pushing back the thought she was twenty years older than him.

Bill rapped on the gates and waited until he saw Hagrid approaching. "Bill! What brings yer by?"

"Dumbledore offered me a tutoring job."

"'E did the same fer Charlie too! 'E went up 'bout ten minutes ago," Hagrid said as he opened the gates.

Outside the Headmaster's office, he found Charlie sitting crosslegged, using his wand to float himself three feet in the air by aiming it downwards through his crossed legs. "Hey Billy. What're you doing here?"

"Job interview. Like you, I guess. Don't call me Billy. And what're you doing?"

"Carissa, my dragonmaster teaches it to us all. If we can't do it while doing our orals we don't pass."

He pulsed himself upwards then landed on his feet.

"So we're trying for the same job?"

"Complimentary jobs," Albus said as he opened his office door. "Apologies, Minister Fudge was rather emphatic about diplomatic issues. Come in."

Fawkes trilled a soft welcoming tune then went back to preening as they took their offered seats. Charlie took an offered lemon sherbet while both accepted the offered tea.

"How are your careers going? I understand you just recently became a journeyman, Charles?"

He nodded. "And my own hut near a hot spring! It's awesome. After a long day I can relax then just walk fifteen feet to my bed."

"And you got a promotion too, William?"

"They call it a promotion but it still pays the same. Though Griff does basically just give me orders," Bill said thoughtfully. "Yeah, I guess it is a promotion. He hasn't yelled at me in months!"

Albus chuckled. "Yes, goblins can be stern taskmasters. I once worked for the bank for two years while excavating an old Alchemist's homestead.

"Now, as for the position.

"You will not be able to speak of what we discuss. If you don't accept the job the nondisclosure agreement will still be binding. Here."

He pushed over two contracts and Bill read them. "Simple. Good binding nomenclature. Based on Greenjaw's work?"

"Ahh, you've studied his work?"

"Griff's sister is Greenjaw's son's best mate. Griff made us study his bindings because they're based on Egyptian hexwork. They're artistic in a way. Look at his work in a three dimensional matrix. Oh, uh, yeah, sign Charlie."

The two Weasleys signed and Albus smiled. "Harry Potter is currently requiring some tutoring on what to expect in school and in both your fields, as I'm sure you both know, the Potters have history."

They nodded. Potters were historically known as independent curse-breakers and until a former minister was bribed into regulating Potters and other independents out of it, leaders in the field of dragonbreeding. Then Potters revolutionized Dragon Reservation design, creating them in such a way multiple dragons could exist in spaces that normally housed only one.

"Essentially, you'll be chaperones if he wants to travel outside muggle areas while he studies with you. Don't expect to set a syllabus, allow him to explore as is his wont. His grandfather's ghost is with him and, for now, his guardian."

"Doesn't that set a dangerous precedent?" Bill asked.

"As long as it doesn't go to the wizengamot it's not a precedent," Charlie disagreed.

Albus chuckled. "Quite.

"You may tell your parents what you're doing here but no one else. Though your siblings meeting Harry might be beneficial later on."

"Mum sent a letter telling us she served Harry in the pub she works in," Bill supplied. "Ron and Gin saw him there."

"Yes, I saw that rumor in the Prophet."

He filed the contracts into a new lawyer's box—he had ordered a new one while perusing Sirius's arrest record, knowing anyone connected with a Wielder was going to cause issues—then turned back to his former students. "Your brothers are currently on the Quidditch pitch and in the library. Do not let me detain you."

Albus watched them go then opened his diary, reading his thoughts on the Potters he had met in his years. The Potter that had taught him at Hogwarts ending up being a Potter he taught years later had been a strange revelation but Potters and time magic being intertwined was amusing. He made a mental note to do his best to keep young Harry away from it.

He flicked a grape into the air for Fawkes then said, "Greedy," as the bird flew to the desk and buried his head in the bowl, making slurping and chomping sounds as he ate.

Letting Harry be taken from the Dursleys's was a decision that still troubled him but it was also necessary. Darklings, though admittedly he knew little of them from short discussions before Potter left teaching, would have lain waste to the Dursleys from what he had learned of them. _Should've checked in on him but there were so many reasons not to_ , Dumbledore thought. Magicals, even those who wouldn't want to harm him, knowing where he resided could lead those who wanted him hurt to his home. But now, Harry was safer away from them. "Actually, they're safer away from him," he said with a snort that caused a chiding tone from Fawkes upon detecting his human's dark humour.

"How do the Darklings not bother you?" he asked the phoenix, a question he had often wondered.

The bird looked at him for a moment then went back to feasting on the grapes. Albus got the feeling it was a dumb question. Then Albus remembered something a muggleborn friend had said about Chaos, Neutrality, Evil. He made a note on a scrap of parchment to ask Gary what he had been talking about.

* * *

Atum, Marianna, and her husband, Zebedee sat at the dining table of Atum's small home, Atum holding his sleeping great-granddaughter while the girl's mother prepared lunch for the small group. "How shall we get there?"

"I was thinking a leisurely cruise," Zebedee said. "I stole one of those shipping containers muggles use and turned it into a nice little potions lab after she threw out my last one." Marianna scoffed. He had nearly burned their flat down. For the eighth time. "A couple days work and we can turn it into a bungalow and then set it on a ship heading from here to England. Those cargo ships muggles use are enormous."

"How do we know which ones to use?" Atum asked.

"Grandfather, Marin's brother works in that field," Taliya said. Marin, her husband, was a muggleborn. "His job is tracking ships I think. He often discusses things like that at dinner."

"Excellent, invite all the family to dinner tomorrow," Atum commanded. As the eldest, he was ostensibly head of the family but his son was really in charge except in moments where Atum wanted something. "Ahhh, a woman's work is never done," he finished, gesturing towards the now stinky girl in his arms.

Zebedee laughed until Marianna punched him while Taliya sighed, a smile on her face nonetheless as she took her daughter to go change her. She knew for a fact Atum had changed her dad but was now old enough to get away with that kind of talk. If her husband ever tried that, though, she'd transfigure him into a fresh diaper.

* * *

Remus finished counting his money. The cost to return to England, the taxes to get back in, the bribes, and so on would cost him everything he had but to make up for his own failures, he found it all worth it.

* * *

Harry was lying on the small sandy portion of the bay, staring up at the sky, utterly exhausted. His nights were dreams that taught him about the history of the Wielders, his mornings were histories of the Potters, and his afternoons were a chance to be ten years old with other village children though most were muggle. He only knew of one other definitively magical child in the bedlam and that's because she was Licorice Barq, the daughter of the people who ran his inn.

Licorice appeared at that moment and plopped down beside him. "Mum wants me to tell you that it's time for dinner."

He nodded and started to get up then helped her up.

Licorice decided to accept his offer to eat her dinner with him since it was the only time she was allowed in the inn's dining room except when helping clean it. She felt a little apprehensive as she sat down, wishing she had on a nice dress or robes like most of their custom did then realized Harry was dressed as shabbily as she was.

"What's it like being self-taught?" Licorice asked.

"I have a tutor," he replied. "Wallace is very knowledgeable," he prevaricated.

"Oh, he's not just your valet?" She had overheard her parents discussing how the man was the boy's servant then her mum corrected the term to valet.

Harry shook his head.

He asked her about the hedge-school she attended and she chattered on throughout the dinner, telling him about their teacher, a local mum, and how she was debating between Beauxbaton's where her mum had gone, Hogwarts, or possibly going to Livermorny where her father had gone. He also learned there were four more magical children in the village, all under seven.

~•~

A tired Harry crawled out of bed in the morning and opened his suite's door to find his breakfast waiting for him as usual. He carried the try in and leisurely buttered a slice of toast then looked at his book as his tea cup was filled by the auto-pour teapot.

Harry absentmindedly thanked the teapot as he heard "Good morning," as Charlus floated in. At night he often went around the village for reasons he had yet to share. Harry had a suspicion the old ghost was a bit of a pervert after he had idly commented on Mrs. Barq's massive cleavage and thick lips. Harry wasn't sure what was so impressive about the lips and resisted asking. He figured he would learn on his own eventually as it was.

"Morning gramps." They had both finally decided on a mutually acceptable honorific for the ghost since grandfather sounded much too formal.

"I meant to ask but forgot. What were your plans before you found out about magic?"

Harry put down his toast and looked up to the ceiling.

"After school I wanted to join the military, use that to pay for university, emigrate to America, get commissioned in the United States Navy, then eventually go to work for NASA and one day walk on Mars.

"I guess that's not really possible now."

Charlus was impressed. James's plans hadn't gone beyond Quidditch—though admittedly while his mother wasn't impressed by their son wanting to be a sports professional, Charlus had been all for it—and eventually mastery of the Darkness.

"Of course it is. We'll work on a multipoint plan to see Magicals one day walk on Mars," Charlus replied. "With your footprints the first."

Harry thought about it. He was also expected to help grow the Potter funds.

"Sadly, for now though, potions practice."

Harry nodded. After their magical history lessons—most of which centered around Potter accomplishments but had an overall purview, this was his favorite since he got to actually make something. Most of it was potions he ended up dumping in the ocean after destabilizing them but it was still fun to chop, julienne, and dice without it all going to feed the pigs and and a bitch.

* * *

Charlie groaned as he pushed the empty plate away. "Mum, that is the most amazing hash I've ever tasted. What was the spicy bit?"

"Jalapeños." Before she could finish her sentence, a red-faced Ginny fanned her mouth and stated "The recipe is Harry Potter's!"

Molly nodded. "He had breakfast in the pub a few days ago and gave us a dozen of his recipes. Cookie replaced five of his and added the other seven to the menu."

Bill piled a little more on his plate then ruffled Ron's hair as the boy picked out his own jalapeno slices. "I'll take those if you don't want them."

Ron handed them over. "Can you go flying with me today?"

"Sorry, we're meeting our student today. But our first day off I'll take you out."

Charlie stood and stretched. "How much is one of those Auror satchels you got?"

"Dunno," Bill said. "My team leader gets them for us at a deal from the artisans. He's married to the chief artisan's sister."

Ron looked at Bill's satchel, open on the table. It was filled with dozens of magical implements he couldn't recognize except for a shrunken broom and a Sneaky Pete wand.

"Is that a Sneaky Pete?" Arthur asked as he sat down. "Are those standard issue for cursebreakers now?"

"Dunno," Bill said. "I mean, yeah, it's a Sneaky Pete but I don't see other teams using them very often. Our team leader prefers we have the best tools possible. My cursepicks are made of gold stabilized magicite. They're brilliant!"

"What are cursepicks?" Ron asked.

"Later, Ronny. Let's go Chuck!"

"Mum, can I go to Luna's?" Bill heard Ginny say as he walked out the door.

Charlie growled at being called Chuck but swallowed his tea then refilled the travel mug and followed him out the door, apparating to Platform 9 & ¾ as soon as they were outside the anti-apparition jinx around the home.

~•~

The two exited the floo tucked into the corner of the small shopping area in the village's mage quarter as Charlie asked, "What is a Sneaky Pete?"

"A yew wand with a lunar hyena whisker. It's not very good for anything except breaking other's spells. It's why if you had one you'd get arrested. Same with the picks."

"Cursepicks are also able to unlock almost anything," Albus said, "with little effort. If they were made of purer magicite they could potentially unlock everything."

"There's actually purer magicite?" Charlie asked. "I make that stuff every Saturday but it's such a pain to get rid of afterwards."

"Yes, there are two magicite spells. The family that invented it released the spell of lesser purity while keeping the other in the family.

"It's good that you keep up with creating the material. I find that now I can create five stone compared to a few ounces when I was your age."

"We just strap ours to fireworks. Makes the bang a lot bigger even if it occasionally discolors or distorts the effects. We usually make bets on how it'll change it. I wonder what the purer stuff would do."

Albus nodded. "Be much bigger and more... energetic. The school makes use of it as well. The house-elves collect it and deposits it near the hearthstone."

"I read an earlier Hogwarts, A History that discussed that," Charlie said, nodding to the pretty witch they passed, turning to check out her backside. "But the latest edition I've seen doesn't mention it at all."

"Only the house-elves know where it is," Dumbledore stated. "Not even I as Headmaster can find it. Or command them to reveal it. And I and others have made a few concerted efforts to do so over the years.

"Ah, here we are."

Standing outside the inn, Charlie and Bill admired the building. It was older looking than the Burrow but the white stone was freshly scrubbed clean with violet wild roses growing along trellises framing windows and a roof with emerald green sod growing atop it. "'The Potter's Wheel.' I've heard of this place. Very good food the Quibbler said."

"You read the Quibbler?" Bill asked his brother.

"I babysat Gin and Luna a few times. She wanted me to read it to them. It's got some good satire."

Inside, the witch sitting at the counter smiled. "Welcome back, Albus. Are these his teachers?"

"Potentially."

"He's out back, he and Licorice are learning how to prune the topiaries. His valet is in the reading room."

"Harry first, I think. Has anyone recognized him?"

"People have asked but I say his last name is Potier. No one speaks French I guess. He keeps his hood up when he's out."

He nodded and thanked her. As they walked to the back garden, Bill asked, "Potier?"

"French for Potter. French is the lingua franca for dragonbreeders. Dunno why. And no one expects Harry Potter to be in an inn in Wales," Charlie said.

"Quite," Albus replied.

They stood in the doorway, watching Harry and the girl carefully trimming a small tree as a house-elf watched anxiously.

Licorice looked up. "Oh, guests. The garden is closed until this afternoon, I'm sorry."

"They're not guests," Harry told her. "That's Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh!" Licorice jumped up and swiped the dirt off her dress then curtsied as politely as she could.

Harry rolled his eyes at her actions as he stood. "Kiri, we'll stop messing up your work now."

The house-elf looked incredibly pleased as the two children moved away and the house-elf went back to work.

"Miss Barq, I do apologize but I must monopolize Master Potier's time."

She nodded and said, "Dinner?"

"Depends on how my homework goes."

Once she was gone, Harry and the three adults sat at one of the stone tables and Kiri brought out tea and lemon curd tarts.

"Harry, this is Bill and Charlie Weasley. They're both graduates of Hogwarts who now work in your family's historical fields. Bill," he gestured at the older of the two," is a cursebreaker at Gringott's while Charlie has just finished his apprenticeship in Romania."


	4. BIND

"If you still snore you're a dead man," Charlie told his brother.

"You have your own room, idiot!"

The two were sharing a small suite at the inn, possibly until 1 September, though more likely to the end of the school year.

They unpacked their belongings then went up to find Harry sitting on the end of his bed, studying his wand. "Whoa, did you use a whole tin of polish?" It glimmered madly in the candlelight. Charlie snorted at his brother's unintentional double entendre. He knew Bill well enough the older man would be smirking if he meant it both ways.

That made Harry grin though the double entendre completely missed the boy. "No. This morning we went to Diagon Alley and Wizard Ollivander diamond coated my wand. It's got facets instead of following the carving." He held it up for them to see.

"Diamond coated?" Bill asked.

Charlus appeared and explained it briefly as the two Weasleys setup the dioramas they had put together to better

explain what they did.

* * *

Albus watched the latest Death Eater as he was lead from the room to be returned to Azkaban. He despised the prison but imprisoning and stopping magicals from using magic was difficult. He had seen a student take parchment, water, and a kneazle whisker and create a working wand just last year—he had given the lad fifty points for it. It hadn't been the most effective focus but it had worked. Even in a prison, a magical could create a focus. Albus had tested out his own hair as a focus and it had worked rather well for a stopgap measure.

He looked at the schedule. Sirius Black was in a holding cell being looked after by Moody himself—after Albus had informed him he was likely innocent—and had Shacklebolt and his current trainee, a young wizard named Largo. Shacklebolt had informed Albus he expected good things of the young man, even if he had been educated via correspondence. _Shacklebolt is admittedly a bit of a snob_ , Albus thought. _But a damn good teacher. Perhaps I can get him at Hogwarts a year._

He wondered about the list. There had been a dozen names on it. Of those twelve, five had passed. He knew the top three were elderly and would likely only act as advisors. The other four had returned short messages. Three were 'as the Master calls, my duty will be done' while the fourth had been 'I serve the Wielder in life and death.'

Albus wondered what had cemented that type of loyalty. At first he had thought perhaps they were controlled but remembered his discussion with Charlus. In the children's sixth year, when everyone assumed the Elder Potters had perished, only James's mother had actually died. Charlus had been badly injured and retreated to his redoubt, expecting to return within days or weeks. Instead, the unknown curse had begun to paralyze him from the neck down, weakening him. And with that weakening, the Darklings maintained also retreated to the redoubt. Or died. Albus was still somewhat unsure about their actual constitution.

Shaking his head, he saw the next Death Eater brought in and heard Crouch yelling. Scowling, he gestured Amelia to deal with the man as he was bound to his seat until the questioning ended in forty minutes.

Amycus Carrow. Like most Dark Wizards, he had a minimal immunity to the effects of Dementors, a darkness in his soul that was enough to keep him from succumbing too quickly. That effect had been evident in Sirius as well, worrying Albus until he learned the young man was an animagus, able to turn to an animal. The simpler minds of most animals magnified the best traits of the original mind while also simplifying processes but that transferred over to the wizard or witch when changed back after long periods. He remembered Minerva attempting to clean herself during a staff meeting after spending a whole summer in her animal form. Albus treasured that memory as the woman grew older and more prim, occasionally reminiscing aloud about it to tease her.

He had discussed the issue with Winkinglemons as a theoretical and she had suggested a modification of the common solution. Instead of wholesale memory obliviation, the subject's memories would be carefully edited, removing the actual memories but not the subject's sense of time procession along with memory creation, reinforcing his psyche so that ten years of confinement would still be known but he wouldn't have those memories to fester in his mind. Instead, a series of memories of time in a comalike state could be created, creating a new type of prison memory with the knowledge it covered up a memory he didn't want.

Sirius—and Harry and Charlus—would have to be consulted first but it sounded good to Albus.

The wizard was shoved into the wooden chair and magic chains wrapped him in place, creating a sense of dread as an auror approached, holding a vial.

Two healers tested the vial before administering two drops—the wizengamot, still filled with sympathizers had balked at three—then Albus began asking questions, his assistants taking notes.

When Carrow tried to resist, Albus cast a lightning spell at the chains, causing Carrow to shriek in pain at the feeling of 40,000 volts to the testicles. "Do not lie!" He didn't like torture but it was the proscribed spell to use and not doing so would show him as weak to those in the audience.

* * *

Remus scowled as he was finally let through customs. Forty-two hours of being sent from lane to lane while former Death Eaters were let through in minutes. Scowling, he took the floo to his parents' village.

As soon as his father opened the door he was wrapped in an impossibly tight hug as the wizard ran his hands down his back and sides, checking to see how skinny he was.

"Oh Rem my boy, how were the Falklands?"

He pushed his father back. "Not too bad."

"I'm glad you're back. Will you stay?" Lyall asked hopefully.

"Uhh..., yeah," Remus said, surprising himself. But he remembered he was supposed to be better.

"Come on, I just made some soup. More than enough for two!"

Remus smiled at the first bite. His mum's pork shoulder noodle soup. Pulled pork, thick egg noodles, a spicy stock, and lots of veggies.

"You'll really stay?" Lyall asked hopefully.

"Yeah. I think Albus has a job for me. He reminded me it's time to grow up. And I kinda realized I hadn't really."

"Good! And there's a new potion. I saved the article, I was going to send it to you. Lemme go find it." He decided not to press the luck of Remus staying with insisting on paying for the potion.

Remus tried to talk his father into eating but soon heard crashing stacks of magazines—Lyall was a bit of a magazine fanatic, having subscriptions to all english language magical magazines—and soon a magazine was handed to Remus. He read about the potion, created to make a werewolf who took it not lose himself to the darkness during the full moon.

It sounded impossibly expensive but Remus smiled encouragingly though felt sick.

Lyall tore into a crusty bap and soaked up the last of his soup then ate it with great relish. "Come on, let's go see your mum."

Remus stuffed his mouth with the last of his bowl of soup then followed his father out of the house and to the local graveyard.

At the wall abutting the parish, his father removed a tin of polish and a flannel then used one edge to wipe off random brass plates of where others' ashes rested and then dabbed polish and smartened them up.

With the dozen brass plates polished, they finally made it to Hope Lupin's final resting place and his father handed Remus the flannel and tin.

* * *

Cornelius sighed. One of the Death Eaters had been held for almost three months too long. Since being a Follower of the Dark-Thingummy wasn't an actual crime, he had to be compensated. Albus had been annoyed as well but then he had pointed out the man was a foreigner and the French Aurors[1] had collected him, confiscating the compensation at the same time. He had suggested a written request to return it.

"Cornelius."

He turned and saw the French Ambassador approaching and nodded. "Hello Jean-Luc."

"My government wishes to thank you for the return of criminal Saltierre. There Is a reward as well." He handed back the man's compensation. "And this is to be returned. Please, let us know a good time to have you visit, the Duc wishes to thank you personally for the return of a man who murdered his friend. A dinner and the presentation of the award." In fact, there hadn't been but the return of the prisoner was a small bridge and the Duc had been so happy to get to execute the wizard, he had decided to grant the Minister a medal a Brit hadn't received in nearly a century.

"I would be honored," Cornelius said, puffing up. "My secretary will give yours a list of dates where I can travel."

The young man behind Fudge opened the Minister's diary and asked, "A three day block, Minister? To allow for some shopping for the missus?" He knew the Minister—and his wife's greedy nature—well.

"Good thinking, lad."

The ambassador's secretary joined the minister's as the two politicians went back to exchanging pointless conversation.

"The Wizengamot is returning to session," a voice said.

"Please, excuse me," Cornelius said. "This is one of our most important interrogations. Actually, would you care to join us?"

Jean-Luc nodded. "Of course."

Inside the Wizengamot, Jean-Luc saw how important this one was. He recognized Rasmussen, the vizier of the Ghost Council; Ghola, a high-ranking shaman from North America; Charles, an African witch-doctor of great renown; and a dozen others he thought he recognized as important wizards worldwide.

They were all standing with Dumbledore and he heard laughter from a few then an aide came towards Fudge and Jean-Luc. "The Chief Warlock says there's enough time to effect introductions Minister, Ambassador."

During the introductions, Charles said something in her native language as she looked Jean-Luc up and down and Albus's cheeks colored. Two others who spoke Afrikaans chuckled.

"What was that?" Jean-Luc asked.

Before Albus could say anything, Charles spoke in badly accented English with what Jean-Luc thought was a French-Vietnamese lilt somewhere. "'Av 'oo eva bean wit' a ree-all weetch?"

Before he could reply—beyond a deep flush, an auror called the participants and witnesses to their seats.

Seated, with the ghost to his left, Jean-Luc smiled at him. "I understand you were a contemporary of Rasputin?"

"Da. Are you a student of Russian history?"

"Not particularly but he's the model of the antagonist of a novel I'm working on. Would you have time for me to pick your mind this summer?"

"I will he visiting the French Ghost Council this summer. Please, leave a good time with your Court's ghost representative."

The conversation ended when the doors opened.

~•~

Sirius Black, flanked by Senior Auror Shacklebolt and Senior Auror Trainer Moody, was escorted in to the center of the court and placed on the chair.

Albus's first query deviated from every prior statement to a Death Eater surprising all that had been at more than one.

"Sirius Black, do you authorize three drops of veritaserum in your questioning and unlimited questions?"

"Yes."

Loud whispers in the court were silenced by a deep blast of sound from the Chief Warlock's gavel hitting the stone desktop hard enough to crack it. "Quiet in my court! Sirius Black, your court records show no trial. Therefore, you are hereby accused of sedition, murder, conspiracy to murder and numerous other charges. Auror, read the charges."

Moody began to do so, reciting four full pages of charges.

"What do you plead to these charges?"

"Not guilty," Sirius said without emotion.

"He lies!" Someone in the audience screamed.

Albus's wand flew upward and a muzzle formed on the wizard's face. He clawed at it.

"Sirius Black, what were you caught doing in third year by Lily Evans?" Albus asked, knowing the answer already. But Sirius didn't know he knew of it.

"Wanking in the common room."

A voice in the crowd called out, "Who stole all of the sixth year's knickers when you were a fourth year?"

There were muffled chuckles as Sirius flatly said, "I did."

"Yes, well it looks like the veritaserum is working," Albus said. "Add the theft of personal property. We'll leave off the self-abuse as he was punished for that." Lily was vindictive.

Moody read off each charge and received a negative answer.

Albus leaned forward. "What happened after I stored the secret of the Potters's residence in your soul?"

"A few weeks later, James and I realized that a double bluff would be even better. Remus we weren't absolutely sure of because—"

"Leave that and back to the secret," Albus said, wanting to keep Remus off the record.

"We decided to ask our friend Peter Pettigrew to hold the secret. We didn't know he no longer believed we could win and had joined Voldemort—" There were gasps of fright and Albus pinched the bridge of his nose. "He sold out the Potters on halloween night. On learning what had happened, I went after him to kill him for betraying my brother and his wife. I failed. The traitor still lives."

Pandemonium reigned supreme.

* * *

Sirius blinked away the sleep gunk as he tried to sit up, wondering where he was. The room was half hospital wing, half themed bed and breakfast. What wasn't white was lemon yellow or covered with images of lemon slices.

"Good morning," said a pretty dark haired witch with bangs that nearly covered her eyes, the rest of her hair was swept up into a bun, held in place with a pair of lemon yellow hairsticks.

 _Minimal makeup,_ Sirius noticed _. White lipstick and black eyeliner. ...Damn, a ring._

"Errgh, morning."

"I am healer Claudia Winkinglemons. Do you remember coming here?"

"No."

"You can move now." Sirius tried and sat up. "During your trial you were attacked by a wizard. I am informed that Auror Moody transfigured a broken chair into a number of spikes and… detained the wizard."

"Knowing Moody, the detainment was rather…, permanent." Moody didn't kill but his retaliations would often make you wish he did.

"We began your treatment already. What is your last memory of Azkaban?"

"Uhh," he thought, realizing he didn't remember leaving the prison. "It was a surprisingly sunny day and I could see the sun from my cell."

She checked a chart. "Excellent, that was two months ago!"

She sat down and re-explained his treatment as he tried not to look down her cleavage.

Claudia grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her eyes. "Pay attention to me, not my baps!"

He colored from embarrassment at not being able to clock a witch surreptitiously anymore.

"Your next treatment begins in a few minutes. We will continue removing your memories until the moment of your arrest. Once that nine years is gone, we will begin the process of new memories, based on a decision made for you by the most responsible person for you at the moment."

"The Headmaster?"

She smiled. "He was consulted along with your cousin Andromeda and your friend Remus Lupin but final confirmation was made by your godson as he is your listed heir."

"Oh, umm, is he here? How old is he? Is he okay‽"

"He is not." She checked her file. "He is ten years, four months, and ten days old. He is fine that I know of. He is currently residing at a Potter property. I also have a message for you from Charlus Potter. He states 'Sirius, you idiot! Get well then you can see Harry. You're lucky I'm a ghost or I'd throttle you for being an idiot!' I like him. He's very funny. A bit of a pervert though."

Sirius goggled. "Charlus Potter a pervert‽"

"When you're well I'll tell you what he asked of me. Now," she said, pulling her wand from her sleeve, "let's begin."

linebreak

Harry sighed tiredly. The village kids had wanted to play in the bay and he had gone along. While it had been fun, it was also very tiring. He realized he likely needed to eat more. "Gramps?"

The ghost looked away from the paper he was reading. "You told me to tell you if I felt unwell. I'm always tired but rarely hungry."

"You don't eat a lot. Witch Barq mentioned how little you eat at meals. Call for Wallace."

Wallace came to the room and the Darklings disappeared as Harry let him in.

"Hmmm, a trip to St Mungo's would be good but not for the best. Let me contact the headmaster."

The next morning, as Harry was watching Charlie demonstrate how dragons were handled using action figures he had animated and a stuffed dragon toy, a wizard arrived, heralded by Fawkes who landed on Harry's shoulder and nibbled his hair then disappeared.

"Ahh, professor Charlus Potter, is that you?"

"Yes. Did I teach you?"

"For my first year, professor."

"Ah, well this is my grandson. He's been tired lately and not eating enough."

"Right then, lad. I'm medi-wizard Cassius Voodoo. Let's see how you're doing."

He picked Harry up and sat him down on the table then cast a couple spells to raise the table higher and added comfort charms.

He took out a dictaquill and a roll of parchment with boxes and some writing already on it then began speaking. "Patient, classified, codename: hirsute claysmith."

Harry looked confused while Wallace put his hand over his mouth to stop from gasping out laughter. Charlus did burst out laughing.

Wallace left the room, squeaks escaping him.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Patient is four point two-nine stone. Height, 49 inches. Both numbers are below average for patient's age bracket.

"Professor, does your family exhibit any abnormal growth patterns?"

Charlus thought for a moment. James's mother had dealt with these things more often. "I don't believe so. His dad was—the robes he's got now are his dad's from when he was eight to nine-ish."

Voodoo nodded and added handwritten notes besides the statistics, adding the historical notes with a different quill.

He touched Harry's inner wrist and counted his pulse then checked Harry's eyes, his tongue and teeth, his reaction time, and his hair length.

"Why did you measure hair length?" Harry asked, remembering Ollivander.

"We check every variable. Magic is… weird at times."

Harry nodded as the healer took a seven lens focal array out of a case and put it on, leaning forward to observe Harry's scar. "Dark magic residue. Unhealed after nine years. Fascinating," he muttered. "And horrible," he said, leaning back and patting Harry's shoulder. "It doesn't seem to be affecting you beyond the lack of healing. I'll see about an essence mask tomorrow to see if advances in magical healing can do anything about that. Now, lie back and lift your legs up so i can extend the table."

With Harry now lying on the flat table, the healer began casting diagnostic spells, creating magical images of Harry, floating above the body.

"Cool," Harry said.

Voodoo chuckled and nodded.

The first was of his bones. The man clucked and made notes of evidence of broken bones. He wrote down _skelegro: 1.25 drachm_ then cast the muscle diagnostic spell. Aside from the scar, Voodoo saw no issues there then did the nervous system. He continued on, checking more elements of the body.

Finally, he checked the alimentary system and sat up straight, shocked.

"That…. Wow, I haven't seen one that big, ever. You must have had it for years!"

"Is that a magasite?" Charlus asked as he floated closer.

"Yes. You have a type of parasite. It resides in your stomach, making it so that you eat less than normal. The size of this one, you're eating less than half of what would fill you up, maybe only a third. It also steals nutrients and kind of saps your magic because your body is fighting it instead of being available for your use. Shocking the size of the thing," he muttered. "Let me see, normally a shot of magacid would do but… it would take so much and the stuff is toxic. I need to contact a specialist.

"For now, a sip of pepperup potion—" though it was a cold cure, it also acted as a general pick-me-up in small amounts and reinforced the immune system "—at meals and a nutrient potion with each meal to counter that thing.

"You can sit up up now."

Harry did so and tugged his shirt into place. "How long will it take?"

"I'll be back tomorrow, hopefully with good news. Now, as for you, drink this nutrient potion now," he said, handing over a blue one, "this white one before bed to help repair bones; the orangey-red is the pepperup, a sip at meals; this green one tomorrow morning when you wake, it's to counter the bone potion just in case; and this one with the white one to help you sleep through how uncomfortable it will be," Voodoo said as he also wrote down the directions.

Harry nodded as Voodoo nodded to Charlus. "I shall see you tomorrow at noon with a month's supply of nutrient potion."

He shook Harry's hand then left.

~•~

Hagrid nodded at the man through the gates to Hogwarts.

"Ken I 'elp ya?"

"Medi-wizard Voodoo. I have an appointment with Madam Pomfrey?"

"Ah, yer 'im then."

Hagrid opened the gates and led the wizard up to the castle then opened the front doors for him.

Voodoo was heading up the stairs when a first year waved at him from the upper floor before dashing down. "Hi healer!"

"Ahh, Azalea, how are you? Are you still using your poultice?"

"Uh-huh. Mummy just sent my new bottle. It smells different though."

"Each time it's made a different fruit is used. The latest batch used juniper berries." Before he could explain it was due to astrological tides, she hugged him then dashed off when she realized she was going to be late to class.

In the hospital wing, he leaned against the wall, watching Pomfrey evaluate a young witch's arm. "This is why we don't try to fly a magical animal we can't see. Do we understand?"

The girl nodded, tears still glistening in her eyes until Pomfrey gave her two potions.

She spun a length of cloth around the girl's arm then restitched together her robe. "Off with you. No heavy lifting or casting until tomorrow morning."

Once she was gone, Pomfrey cleaned up the area then turned to Voodoo. "Cassius. Let's see the file."

She smiled at the code name but the obvious connection didn't happen since she assumed Voodoo had done as all doctors did and used a random phrase.

"Lots of injuries. Smaller than he should be. Underage but I presume he's done magic?"

"Significant. Background from his grandfather had him summoning family cat while still pre-walking, animating his plush toys, accidental apparition, color changing charms when angry, potential metamorphmagus due to hair's unchanging nature. His parents were both animagi. Strangely, he has his mother's quick anger and his father's slow burn too," he added. Wallace had handed him a file his grandfather had had drawn up before the visit.

"Fascinating. But the parasite is the issue. You were right not to use the acid. It'll require surgery."

"That may be an issue. His grandfather is uncomfortable taking him to St. Mungo's at the moment. Could we perform it here?"

"Well yes…," she thought aloud. "We would need the Headmaster's permission and actually, it would be good to have one of them alive to do some research on. I've had some ideas about them and their properties for years but since I'm here, I'm low on the pole when we do do surgery to remove them." Even as a highly respected medi-witch, when she had retired from St. Mungo's to be the nurse at Hogwarts, she was moved down the specimen priority list at St. Mungo's.

"Alright then, tomorrow at noon I'll be doing my followup for the other issues. Can we floo to your office?"

"Only from St. Mungo's. The headmaster can create a portkey that can enter school grounds though."

"Then I shall go see him. Thank you, Poppy."

"Of course. I'll call St. Mungo's for a temporary replacement while we work. Cappy, service!"

As Voodoo prepared to leave the hospital wing, a house-elf appeared. "Yes Nursy Pomfy mum?"

"Prepare the surgery suite." She wrote down a schedule then handed it to Cassius.

~•~

The Headmaster smiled at Voodoo as he came in. "Anything I need to know?"

"Just that we need a portkey to bring him to Pomfrey to examine him herself due to her specialty."

The Headmaster nodded. "Very well. When?"

"Tomorrow at noon."

He turned to his feathered friend. "Fawkes, would you be able to meet them tomorrow where you delivered Master Healer Voodoo?"

Fawkes sang then went back to devouring the pomegranate a house-elf had surprised him with.

"I shall see you tomorrow then, Cassius."

The medi-wizard nodded and, yawning, left the office.

Albus rolled his eyes as Fawkes began rolling around in the remnants of his pomegranate then got out the cleaning kit. The pith always got stuck between feathers.

* * *

Harry ate even less than usual at dinner.

Wallace noticed and said, "Magical surgery is even safer than Muggle surgery, Harry. You'll be fine."

He nodded but only ate one more forkful of the salmon pie.

Wallace left to go to his own room while Harry tried to distract himself by creating leather via the darkness, using the sheath for his wand as a template.

He was looking at the leather with the magnifying glass Witch Barq had lent him when there was a knock at his door. "Harry?"

He walked over and flipped his hood up then opened it to find Licorice in her pajamas, holding a book. "You left this in the dining room."

"Oh, thanks."

She hugged him and said goodnight then headed for her family's quarters.

He put the potions book back with his other books then decided to give up on Darkness armor practice for the night and turned on the muggle radio he had bought.

His grandfather's ghost floated in to the room and settled on the chair next to the bed. "Taking a break?"

Harry nodded. "It's hard to concentrate."

"When your dad had a lot on his mind and I was around, we'd play gobstones or chess. We could have a darkling stand in for me?"

Harry shook his head.

"Want me to teach you a spell, tell you about your dad, or go away?"

"Spell and dad," Harry said after some thought.

"After his first year, he came home incredibly excited about his group of friends. Knowing your dad, I decided to teach him a spell that I made good use of over the years. Watch my finger."

He made a ん to ) then a / shape, completing itself to look like a swoopy A with it and had Harry repeat it until Charlus was satisfied. "This spell, using this motion, can only be used on other people or items until you have gotten to the point of being able to just jab spells and incantless casting, then you can selfcast it. The spell is abo-RĒS-ko. And be sure you use the Ess and not the Zed sound as you cast. Use that chair as your target."

Harry did as told. A small point on the chair seemed to vanish.

"Good, good. Your dad learned this spell well as did his friend Remus. The other two took longer to get it. i think Sirius finally got it right in fourth while the rat took until sixth?

"Let's try again. Remember, you want the chair to fade away."

By the time and hour had passed, the splotch that was invisible had grown to palm-size and when a Darkling moved the chair, Harry saw the splotch looked as if it had changed into slightly springy looking glass, creating a strange looking optical illusion.

"This spell, coupled with slow movement and a few other charms is wonderful for sneaking up on a target. A disillusioned, silenced, and aroma-less Darkling is a fantastic assassin or distraction. I especially used this to sneak out past your grandmum to tie one on with the lads down at the pub."

Harry laughed. All the stories about his grandmother made it sound like she was even more dangerous than a Wielder could ever be but also an amazing wife and mother.

* * *

Remus nodded at the witch as she came in to Sirius's room. When he had met with Albus, the old wizard had suggested being by Sirius's side would be best and Remus agreed only after learning the nephews of Gideon and Fabian Prewett were Harry's tutors and part of his entourage.

The witch nodded back and peeked at Remus's notebook. "Have you thought of more people to contact?"

"A few. A couple of his exes, some aurors we knew from out of country. Albus said he and Moody would check up on them for us."

She nodded then turned to Sirius and hit him with the tickling charm, shocking him out of an enchanted sleep. "Time to wake, Sleeping Beauty."

"Clau? You are an evil witch!" Sirius groaned but sat up, glaring at his healer as she grinned and held out a vial of something black and bubbling.

"Memory enforcer potion. You'll take this once a week to make sure your memories stay. Your flexible mind is already trying to shake off your first modified memory."

"Sirius? Flexible?" Remus teased.

"The Animagus portion of his mind—" the mindset stayed though the heightened and different senses of the form didn't "—knows something is different. We could change that but then he'd likely lose the ability or it would at least become exponentially more difficult.

"Oh, and Remus, your father flooed, to remind you that you need to pick up groceries."

"You're staying with your dad?" Sirius said, shocked. For a moment, Remus thought Sirius was going to mock him until he said, "that's awesome! Your dad is almost as cool as Pop was." Sirius had stayed with Remus and his parents occasionally as well when he had issues with his parents.

Done checking Sirius, Claudia took the list from Remus and promised to owl it to the Headmaster then headed to her next patient.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"The boat to Azkaban then dreams of being in Azkaban."

Remus nodded. That was the implanted memories. "And now?"

"I still expect Harry to be toddling along the floor but I also know he's almost eleven now?"

He nodded again. "Come on, you have physical therapy now."

"What's that?"

"A half mile walk a day for at least one week. Maybe two weeks then a mile a day then two miles. When you can pass auror physical standards you'll be able to leave, they said.

"And remember, this clinic has muggles in it."

Sirius nodded as he slipped his feet into the furry boots Remus had brought for him.

"These boots are great. Really warm."

"They're muggle. From Australia, I think. They had a rip in them so I got them for a couple pounds. They'd never been worn, either."

Outside, the two followed a stone trail beset by bursts of color of various trees with fragrant blossoms. The clinic's garden had won dozens of awards from muggle and magical gardening publications.

Both walked silently, unsure of what to say.

* * *

Harry's lesson for the day was different. Instead of giving him a background of magical knowledge, his grandfather and the Keeper were discussing the dreams he had been having.

"Have you dreamt of the First Wielder, his war against his family?"

Harry shook his head, his throat suddenly dry.

"The first Potter was the youngest prince of King Harthacnut, a cruel and evil man who professed to the christian religion while persecuting all," Charlus said. "When it was learned what the First could do—magic that is, it was the only time the king showed any form of mercy. He banished his seven year old son, forbidding him from his name, his right of birth, and had him whipped twice a day as he was transported out of the country.

"Near death, the First was found by a witch and her muggle husband, a potter.[2] The two raised and trained him in magic, and how to craft clay.

"The First took the name Potter and threw himself into studying magic, eventually traveling to Scotland and studying at Hogwarts for four years before he learned that his mother had been burnt alive by his father for allegedly consorting with devils." He noticed Harry's confused look and smiled sadly. "He killed our ancestor because he believed she had sex with a devil."

Harry gasped.

"And so, on learning this, the First, now fifteen and a good friend to another royal who was also a cousin with magical talent, was granted an army. It was small, less than a gross of men." He realized Harry wouldn't know that term. "One hundred forty four is a gross, twelve twelves?" Harry nodded. "But each was magical enough to properly use the bows, swords, and mail enchanted by the First's witch-foster mother.

"They became a reign of terror on Harthacnut's realm, raiding as they pleased, destroying the false christian king's places of worship, until finally, one day, a seventeen year old First stood before his father and granted the man's pleas for mercy. A quick, ruthless chop removed the king's head.

"The First passed the realm to his patron in the actions and received all the spoils of war his men could carry as they left the realm."

"Wh—" Harry's voice broke and he tried again. "Why didn't he take the throne? Wasn't it his by right?"

"And by might. But the First wanted to continue his education as a wizard.

"And then one day, he met the Peverells and was enchanted by their twelve year old daughter. Two years later, it happened."

This time the keeper began to speak.

"On the night of his mastering her—"

"Their wedding night," Charlus interjected.

Harry looked horrified. "She was fourteen‽"

"And he was twenty-one," his grandfather confirmed. "Different times, different customs and mores. At that time, she was about a year past marrying age. Disturbing, I know. Let the Keeper continue, my boy."

"On that night, the Peverells had elected to use a special blood based spell to help protect their daughter, knowing that the First was going to lead a dangerous lifestyle.

"As well as that spell, the First elected to use a runic combination that would empower his wife utilizing the sacrifice of her blood on their wedding night.

"An old ritual rarely used due to the danger of harming the male but he elected to use it.

"Her pain, fear, the two spells, a lunar eclipse, that night being the lunar solstice, and a comet piercing an astral ley line that was heralding great magic as related by centaurs led to the ancient magic of the universe combining in their pooled blood and imbuing both with power."

"Combined blood?" Harry asked. The sex talk Charlus had given earlier had related the significant chance of a woman bleeding their first time but there hadn't been mention of men bleeding.

"A sore on his penis," Charlus said. "Speaking of that, make a note to discuss and look up new ways of protection."

The Keeper wrote it down in his book.

"That night, we were formed for the first time in a corporeal form," The Keeper said. "Our will was the First's. Our duties his. We were ancient magic, the magic of the universe itself, stolen and bound to a human bloodline.

"And yet, his will was such that we were used in such a way that we found great satisfaction. For by being an extension of his will, we had sentience. And a mission. It was a lessening of us and at the same time, an expansion for as the magic of the universe, we were without thought, without guidance, without knowledge."

Harry blinked.

* * *

Pomfrey blinked in surprise. The codename for the file had been amusingly apt.

Harry Potter thanked Fawkes for the delivery to the school and the bird disappeared then returned with a wizard she thought she recognized as a former seventh year when she started at Hogwarts.

"I'll just wander down to the library until I'm needed," Wallace said and Harry nodded then took his pocket-watch out and clicked the crown after Dumbledore effected introductions then made his leave.

"Charlus?" Pomfrey said as the ghost was released from the watch.

"Ah, hello," the ghost said. "Lovely to see you."

"I want to pick your mind about a research project I'm taking part in," she told the ghost.

"Can it wait until September when he starts school?"

"Yes. I'll just be done with primary work then.

"This way, Harry. You'll need to change into a robe. Now, do you want to be knocked out or would you prefer a lot of calming potions so you can watch."

Harry's eyes widened. "Watch!"

He came out of the changing room in an old fashioned style nightgown then Pomfrey helped him up onto the table. Two more witches entered the room with bubblehead charms in place and carrying trays of potions.

"Adjust the mirrors so he can see," Pomfrey told them then picked up a vial of pink and gold potion. "Drink this then lie back and count to twenty."

"One…. Two…. Three…. Four…. Five…. Six…. Seve…."

Harry was completely relaxed at that point and could only blink to signify yes and no.

As Madam Pomfrey used her wand to vanish the nightgown from hips to undeveloped pectoral muscles, a house-elf appeared and began wiping Harry's body down with a slightly purple potion. As soon as it was done, one of the medi-witches began rubbing another potion, this one blood-orange red.

"I'm going to cast a bubblehead spell on you," she told him. "You'll be seeing through a thin slightly orange film. It's to keep the smell from you. Blink twice for okay."

He blinked twice then saw her cast the same spell on herself but it only covered her mouth.

"I have to be able to smell during this. I'm about to open you up now. If you are uncomfortable, blink repeatedly and medi-witch Tonks will stun you. Two for you understand."

Harry blinked twice.

He watched a laser like light come from her wand and soon he was looking at his skin and muscle of his stomach folded up onto his chest and a fist sized hole showed his stomach, bulging rhythmically.

"Merlin, that's big," the other medi-witch muttered.

Medi-witch Tonks sniggered then the other witch realized the double-entendre and rolled her eyes. Her eyes still flickered to the boy's groin then she scowled at her action.

Another potion was poured onto the stomach as Pomfrey manipulated it, making sure the liquid covered all of it.

The stomach roiled more from the manipulations and the parasite inside feeling a potion causing its metabolism to slow, stopping it from spitting acid into Harry's stomach.

Harry's eyes widened slightly as she used a muggle scalpel to open his stomach then begin to pull out what looked like a psychedelic millipede, the third witch hitting every segment of its body with a stunning spell as it was pulled out.

"Ugggh," she said, when the last segment was stunned. "Ninety-seven! That means the thing is nearly twenty-three feet long!"

Tonks took the parasite and stuffed it into a freshly slaughtered pig's stomach then cast dozens of charms on it as Madam Pomfrey began inspect Harry for eggs. When she finished that, potion after potion was poured into his stomach then carefully siphoned out.

Finally, a stomach acid replenishment potion was poured in, his stomach closed back up, then his skin and muscle restored. "Fascinating," Pomfrey said. "I was sure you'd have to be stunned almost immediately."

"He's a Potter," Charlus said proudly.

"But now you will be," she told Harry, ignoring the ghost. "We can't let you move around for two hours then you'll need to sleep for a couple days. Sweet dreams," she said then canceled his bubblehead spell and dropped a paralytic sleeping potion between his lips. "If he still has a scar in September, I"ll fix it th—"

* * *

Harry stood in the candlelit room, looking at himself in the mirror. Almost six weeks of study and he now stood in the armor of the Darkness, a light drinking black scale- and chainmail over leather and silk, the armour quite different than his grandfather's due to Harry's mental image of armour.

"Excellent, lad. Most excellent. Now that you have a mental image you strongly understand you can begin modifying your mental image until the armour fits your style of combat."

Harry nodded, putting on a dueling pose Wallace had shown him with his wand hand over his head, aiming at his mirror image.

"And what is wrong with that pose?" Charlus asked.

"Umm…, oh! I'm waiting for their attack?"

"Yes! Never react, Harry! It's how people die. For now, stun or disable in some way _then_ figure out what to do.

"Anyway, you mentioned Iron Man had cool armour?"

Harry nodded and took out his comics from the bedside table. He had a trade paperback missing a few pages and three comics with torn covers he had rescued from bins at school.

"And muggles can build these‽" Charlus exclaimed, shocked so much he accidentally floated into Harry.

Harry laughed. "No. I read this editor's note in an issue that certain aspects of the armour could be built but it couldn't fly or do some things."

Charlus looked thoughtful. "Harry, you're magical. You could easily build this armour, possibly by the time you're done in school!"

Harry's eyes went wide as he thought about it.

He whipped out parchment and his self-inking quill—filling a regular quill every line or so was infuriating and it was one from a package of seven that was a gift from Wallace when Harry complained about losing his last biro—and began writing the abilities Iron Man Armour had exhibited in the various comics he had had a chance to read.

As he wrote, Charlus said, "Once you have all the list and the list of things you want to be able to do, part of your school time should be spent researching magic that can replicate what the armor does."

"Yeah!"

* * *

Remus shook Wallace's hand as the wizard asked, "Are you both ready to go?"

Remus nodded. Sirius had spent over a month recovering and having his memories modified. Now that christmas was almost upon them, Sirius was finally to see his godson.

He came bounding down the steps and Remus sighed, muttering, "He's eleven again."

Wallace laughed as he opened the door of to vehicle.

In the vehicle, Sirius asked what all the buttons were for. With a muggle mother, Remus was able to demonstrate and explain all the functions of the vehicle then had to stop Sirius from having a drink when he realized there was a bar in the centre console.

"Why not?"

"Do you really want to smell like liquor? You're being evaluated to see if you're ready to care for Harry, you idiot!"

They arrived an hour later—Wallace had been told to take the long route by Charlus.

"Wale—oh, this is that pub they owned. Or still own, I guess," Sirius said.

Inside, a witch looked up from a book. "Welcome, do you—oh, it's you! Your rooms are this way. Harry went for a walk with his tutors. Wallace, he left a message for you," she said, holding out a folded sheet of parchment, the message written on the inn's stationery.

Wallace took his list and saw it was from Charlus via Harry, a list of supplies.

He went to fill it while Remus and Sirius were shown to their rooms on either side of the Weasleys's room.

"As soon as Harry comes back I'll let him know you're here. His suite is on the next floor up. Touch your wand to the name plate and say 'Harthacnut sucks' to open the door. If the door at the top of the stairs is locked just tap the sign of the cross on the glass. You know that?"

Remus nodded as she told them the time they served meals and other amenities of the inn.

"Sign of the cross?" Sirius asked after she left.

"Spectacles, testicles, wallet, heart," he said, tapping them on himself.

"Oh. That religious thing. Wonder why?"

"Well, her husband is muggleborn from the states so he could be religious. But I bet it's just a mnemonic to remember the opening."

They went upstairs and in Harry's suite found a small potion lab with the ingredients and recipe for a cleaning potion laid out, a small bookshelf with books for all seven years of school "—Hey, this is James's charm book! See? The flipstory I drew—," and a small pile of freshly laundered muggle clothing.

Remus picked up the potions book and saw childish handwriting had annotated the recipe. For a moment he thought Harry might be a potions genius then realized it was likely Charlus's advice. He picked up the quill and corrected the spelling of Julianne to Julienne.

The door opened and they turned to see Harry followed by a ghost and two redheads.

"Sirius Black, if I had hands I would—Harry, add a golem controllable by a ghost to the list—as I was saying, if I had hands I'd throttle you!"

"Pop‽" Sirius hadn't been informed about the ghost after his initial memory of him had to go, mostly because Remus wanted to see a moment like this.

Harry added the idea while Remus burst out laughing at Sirius's expression as the ghost floated forward and attempted to pat his cheek. "Sirius."

"Pop. You stayed after you died?"

"Charlie, Bill, give us a few?" Charlus asked.

"Of course, sir," Bill replied.

As soon as the door closed, Harry asked, "Did–did my dad ever mention the family magic?"

Remus nodded and after a moment, Sirius did as well.

"He said that one day he'd show us the most amazing thing ever," Sirius said but held his tongue on his then reply of 'But I already saw Lily in the shower.'

Harry closed the blackout curtain then the room was filled with Darklings, a two foot tall one electing to sit on Sirius shoulders as Harry had a decade before, picking its nose. As Harry had.

~·~

Sirius and Remus had spent an hour talking with Charlus in hushed tones in the corner while Harry had worked on the potion with Bill overseeing the work after Sirius has hugged the stuffing out of Harry and cryingly apologized until Harry had finally gotten him to accept his acceptance of his apologies.

"Alright, Harry, turn off the heat and bottle a sample and we'll test it."

He set the sealed bottle next to Bill's sample and Harry's shoulders dropped. It was a pale straw compared to Bill's lemon yellow potion.

"It's just a little weak, Harry. It would work fine in the home, just not at a level where you'd be able to work as an apothecarist." He took out some colored pencils then colored in a pair of bottles sketched on some parchment. "Look up various potion reactions and try to guess where you went wrong on yours."

Harry nodded then cleaned up his potions mess, pouring Neuman's Oane Newt-Troll-Eye-Soar—Garius Neuman had been a notoriously poor speller, using phonetics and mondegreens in product names—into the cauldron and swirling it with pure water until it turned a sludgy white, signifying it was done. Bill vanished it then Harry wiped it dry.

Instead of doing the potion studying right then, he and Charlie went down to the village so Harry could try to identify dragons by the components.

Charlus smiled as he watched his grandson turn the corner then turned back to the two while Bill left the room.

"I always thought James was joking about the Darkness," Remus said. "Is it really as powerful as he said?"

"The Darkness is the magic of the universe," Charlus replied. "It existed before life and it will exist long after we're gone. He'll be a fine Wielder. It's your job now to make sure he lives long enough to master his powers."

They nodded then Charlus chuckled. "Because once he Masters the Darkness coupled with the Potter curse, he will be a force of Nature."

"Potter curse?" Remus asked.

"Luck. Not good or bad, just luck. My father once sat down to figure out his bad luck and good luck events. It was neck and neck until he decided that had one more evidence of good luck than bad luck. Then my mother blew up the library trying out a new cleaning spell, knocking my father out when a trophy bludger got activated and it went straight for him. From the other side of the manse. Through eighteen walls.

"Just don't tell him about it. I want to see if its breakable."

"It's an actual curse?"

Charlus nodded. "Done by a Black, actually. When she was spurned by the sixth Wielder. She used her death to power the curse the grimoire says."

"Merlin, she used a blooded ritual to suicide curse him‽" Sirius asked. "Hu-uh… Claudia told me I'm the head of the Blacks, actually. I'll see if there's any info about it in the library."

"Well if you can find it, that could be useful but truthfully, the good has outweighed the bad," Charlus thought. "At least, I think so, looking back."

"Remus, you're going to be my regent," Sirius told him. "To deal with the shit I don't want to as a head of House and proxy for Harry's."

Charlus nodded. "Good," he agreed before Remus could even try to say anything. "Now, you need to think about where he'll stay before school next year."

"The family house is likely a mess," Sirius thought aloud. "The Potter Cove is gone. Sorry about that, Pop."

"Unless you broke our privacy spells, released dragon flu infected krups, and then blew up the house, you have no need to apologize."

Sirius flushed then realized Charlus was being his usual snarky self. "I had forgotten how much of a prick you were, Pop." The ghost snickered. "Oh! The island! When we were in Australia," Sirius said. "James and I got in to a high stakes poker game. We won an island! It's magically hidden and maintained by house elves."

"How do we get there?"

"There's a city in a cove nearby where we left the boat that can navigate itself to the island. Lily called it a Boston waiter."

"Do you mean a whaler?" Remus asked.

"Maybe?"

"You know them?" Charlus asked.

"Of them. They're a very good muggle brand of boats."

Charlus nodded. "You'll need to see if the island is still inhabitable. Remus, you work on the supply issues for ten. My old fireteam should he here soon. We'll leave after New Year's."

* * *

Harry sat down on the bench, thinking about all the changes in his life since Halloween night. "Keeper."

He peered out of a nearby shadow. "Master?"

"Do you know much about Sirius?"

"He's your godfather as you know. Your dad trusted him utterly no matter who his family was. He and your dad were proper villains at times," he said cheerfully.

"Villains?"

"They could be bullies but the people they bullied were bloodists."

Harry nodded. The recent history of the magical world was not good.

"And he loved you. When you were seven months old you urinated all over his face. It was hilarious."

Harry's mental image of how that happened left him with a confused face until he remembered a scene from a movie where a baby being changed did the exact same thing.

"He chased your father around the house, urine still all over him until he caught your dad then rubbed his face in your dad's hair to get the urine off.

"Your mother then transfigured them both into puppies that you played with for hours until you fell asleep, hugging puppy Sirius."

"So you and grandpa just watched us? All the time?"

"When he was awake, yes."

Harry nodded then stood. "I left my money in my room."

A moment later, a Darkling held out his wallet and the small money pouch and Harry grabbed them. "Thank you."

The Darkling gave a salute then vanished.

In the muggle portion of the village, Harry waved at the kids playing in the park then lined up to buy spiced hot cocoa from the café from the gorgeous redhead who owned the place. As she served him, Harry's cheeks reddened as she leaned forward, revealing the bright green bow on her brassiere. "Here you go handsome."

He turned even redder then fairly fled the café. He heard her chuckling as he was waved over by Isabella, one of the leaders of the muggle children in the village. "Hi Harry."

He nodded hello then took a sip. "You're all out of class?" he asked as he watched them building a legion of foot tall snowmen.

"Yeah, winter break began yesterday. Do you have a winter break?"

"Kind of. My tutors are going home in a few days but I still have classwork to do while they're gone."

"Boring. Miss Sarah's hot choccy is really good, eh?"

Harry nodded again then offered her a drink after he heard the Keeper whisper in his ear it was the polite thing to do.

Isabelle shook her head. "I had one this morning. If i can't fit in my christmas dress my mum'll kill me."

Harry was about to reply when Licorice and two boys from the mage quarter of the village appeared and Licorice called his name. "It's time for tea, Harry."

Harry said goodbye to Isabelle and the others then walked back Licorice as the two boys headed home on a different path.

Back at the inn, Harry and Licorice joined the guests for afternoon tea and the entertainment, a five piece string group.

Both children were rather bored during the recital and ended up leaving once they were full and ended up outside, making a snowman. Licorice pulled out a red licorice lace and a pair of bright pink all-sorts then a carrot for the face and Harry lifted her up to place them, the Darkness subtly reinforcing his clothing and taking most of her weight to make it look effortless. Licorice proclaimed that Clarice looked happy once Harry's scarf was wrapped around her neck.

This time they were called in as they started working on Clarice's snowdog.

Harry went up to change—tonight was dinner theatre—then when he got down to where his usual table was he saw it had been replaced and notecards for Sirius, Remus, Bill, Charlie, himself, Licorice, and Wallace were on the settings.

Harry put his watch on the table so his grandfather could better hear as the others took their places. Licorice pouted as she saw the booster on her seat then giggled as Sirius pointed out Harry had one as well.

Harry glared at Sirius who just smiled. Harry made a mental note to do what his father would do.

~•~

Sirius Black awoke to find his bed encased in a massive shipping crate and Remus rapping his fist on the outside. "Sirius?"

"What is this‽"

"It says 'fragile: booster seats' and a shipping label to send you to someone named Cheri Littlebottom from Harry.

"Wow. The runes on the outside are an anti-apparition jinx.

"It says there's a screwdriver to undo the screws from the inside if you can find them.

"Well I'm gonna go to breakfast."

"Remus!"

The door closed.

He spent the next hour and a half figuring out how to use the screwdriver and carefully feeling along the interior until he found the screws.

In Harry's room, he glared at his godson then picked him up, surprising him as he hugged the boy tightly. "That was brilliant!"

~•~

Remus, Bill, and Charlie had taken Harry out shopping for christmas presents while Sirius was being helped by Wallace to fill out Ministry parchmentwork.

"You used to be a hit-wizard didn't you?" Sirius asked as he worked out his current decaological sign. "Who bloody thought this kind of information was required‽"

"Some undersecretary convinced the Minister that the paperwork needed more identifiers. And yes, as well as an Unspeakable during the war. I beat you senseless during the combat training you and James went through."

"Why are you in Transport then?"

"I see everything in inverted colors. You're a bluish-black with white hair streaked by black. My glasses invert for me so i see normally but I couldn't enforce the law or research anymore."

"Wow," Sirius replied. "That's kinda cool sounding though."

"My wife finds it amusing. She'll show me an item and a color chart so I can tell her the exact contrasting color. She owns a style boutique if you want to fix your hair. Her hair color charm lasts a year and is finiteproof."

"I've been thinking about it—done, finally!"

He folded the parchment and stuffed it in an envelope then stood and stretched. "I'm going to deliver this then do some christmas shopping in Diagon Alley."

"Charlus said for me to protect you it you went out so gimme a couple minutes."

Sirius sighed and nodded. "I'll go wait by your car."

~•~

"So he's ten. What do you get a ten year old?"

"What did you want when you were ten?"

"To not be related to my mother. A broom?"

"He technically has a couple. From your stash in Hogsmeade? And he decided to wait to learn to fly until Hogwarts."

"Ah," Sirius hummed. "Makes sense. A gobstone set?"

"Licorice gave him one so they could play together."

"Oh, I know! And it's in my stuff so then on to Remus's present." He stroked the snowy owl who had been eyeing him and got a polite nibble on his finger from the bird before it went back to preening.

The two spent an hour picking out presents for Remus, the Tonkses, and a few others then they headed back to the village.

They stopped in the sitting room of the inn for mulled cider and Sirius found two of the witches were from his year at Hogwarts though from Hufflepuff. They had seen him in the village and drawn up lists of pranks they had thought were rather inventive. Sirius signed it then promised them both dinner to make up for the pranks they hadn't liked.

"I am in like Flint," he said softly after they left.

"You've seen that movie?" Wallace asked.

"Movie?"

"I'll show it to you sometime."

Upstairs, Sirius put his packages in his wardrobe and saw the remnants of the shipping crate was gone. He wondered how Harry had done it then realized the most likely solution: the Darkings had assembled it and his grandfather had told Harry how to draw the runes.

A house-elf popped in to the room. "Oh, guesty here. Sikky apologizes."

"I'm leaving, go ahead and clean. Oh, and you can wrap my presents if you like, just leave a card on top of each one with what's in it so I can label," he said as he dug out Harry's present and set it with the gifts.

The house-elf nodded happily and disappeared then reappeared with matte red paper with gold stripes and fluorescent gold paper with matte red stripes and red and gold ribbons as Sirius left—Sikky was very intuitive when it came to knowing color combinations the guests would like.

In the suite, he found Harry and Bill working on what he thought was third year runes material. "Making a light rune array?" Sirius asked. It was one of the first arrays taught because it was a simple one but could be endlessly complicated to create new functions and was one of the easier enchantments.

"He's showing me how the Egyptians lit their tombs."

"Oh, gubraithian flames. Your mum could do the charm. I think James could too but never saw him cast it. I've tried, not done it yet."

"The egyptians also has a runic array that caused wood to be renewed as it burned," Bill said. "Wrong, Harry. Remember, each rune has a specific stroke pattern. You went from right to left. That one requires left to right then down in the J shape to create it. The magic can tell if you did it wrong. It's as much ritual- as charm-work."

Harry erased it then redid the stroke using the silver and magicite ink.

As soon as he completed it, the burnt out sulphurhead of the enlarged match ignited and continued burning as Harry tried to blow it out.

The ink faded away when the flames burned down to the first rune and the match went out. "Excellent."

Remus and Wallace walked in as Charlie gestured for Harry to join him for a short class on the morphology of dragons.

* * *

Harry awoke christmas morning to find a pile of presents in front of his bed that dwarfed his father's school chest—which Sirius had retrieved for him on Charlus's recommendation—and a steaming mug of hot chocolate and a tray of biscuits.

He took a sip and sorted through the presents, a massive grin on his face. Three from Sirius, one from everyone else he had spent time with lately, including a large bag of homemade licorice from Licorice, and something from Bill and Charlie's mum if the Mrs. Weasley on the package meant anything. Even one from Isabelle, the muggle girl in the village who was the leader of the group and one he ended up chatting with fairly often outside of playing. He wondered how she had gotten it to him since the mage quarter was hidden then remembered Wallace liked jogging and she knew he was his minder.

"Glad I got her that journal," Harry said to the Keeper. "What are you doing?"

"Listing who you need to write thank you notes to."

"Oooh, good idea."

He began opening the packages, admiring the black sweater from Mrs. Weasley with its ornate green H on it, with what he thought was a red poinsettia leaf behind the H. Or it was a splotch of color. Either way, he liked it.

He decided to try it on and then opened the one from Remus as he tried a piece of licorice. It was incredibly sticky and very strong and Harry really liked it.

Remus had gotten him a book of photographs, mostly of his parents together but a couple of his mother alone or with friends when she was near his age and older and a lot of his dad with the rest of the friends. The first two photographs were of his parents as eleven year olds with their respective families just before leaving for Hogwarts, his father's picture magical while his mother's wasn't. He looked at them both, trying to see the similarities then continued on. Harry poked one with Pettigrew prominent in it. "Why did you betray people who would have died for you?"

The picture just waved and Harry closed the book. "Traitor."

"Don't worry, Master. We'll hunt him down and present you with his tongue on a platter and his skull to piss into."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That's gross. And really awesome of you."

The Keeper grinned, quite evilly Harry thought. "Your great-great-great-grandmother once requested we bring her the reproductive organs of the witch who castrated her favorite kneazle. The Wielder talked her out of it but rather liked the idea of organ presentation that matched the offense."

"I think Sirius and Remus would prefer him alive," Harry decided. "They said something about krup-and-rat games."

He continued opening his presents and the Keeper continued writing down names and gifts.

Finally he was down to the last two, one from Sirius and one from his grandfather.

The small gift from Sirius was a small mirror with a huge runic array on the back and runes around the mirrored side along with a small scrap or parchment telling him how to use it: say Sirius's name and it would vibrate Sirius's mirror to let Sirius know Harry needed to speak to him.

"Very rare device," the Keeper said. "Technically illegal in the UK, your father bought them before second year while visiting Africa with your grandmother."

Harry blinked then noticed the smaller script in Remus's handwriting saying that technically the gift was also from James.

He swiped his arm across his eyes.

He opened his grandfather's gift and found it was a bladesheath for his wand and seven styluses that he thought were colored pencils until he read the note. They were Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Violet stained holly pencils with occamy silver bonded matching color charcoals to act as backups for his main wand, each diamond coated save for the eraser and the charcoal portions.

Harry affixed the bladesheath and grinned. Unlike Wallace's which looked like a supersonic jet in Harry's eyes, the blades on his wand spiraled around the wand, one blade metal coloured and serrated, the second black as night with a blue sheen to the edge, and the third a milky white with an orange sheen to the blade.

He pressed the stud that made the blades descend back into the hilt portion.

"Cool."

~•~

Dressed in overrobes over his muggle clothes, he went downstairs for breakfast, his stomach growling. Ever since the surgery he had been having trouble eating his fill due to not realizing he could eat more. His Darklings would remind him go eat more at his order.

Before he even had made more than a step into the dining room, Licorice was latched onto him, hugging him and babbling her thanks for her her new doll. He turned his head a bit, going red from how tight she was holding on to him. "You're welcome," he finally uttered, seeing the doll ballet dancing across the floor.

Sirius grinned at him then gestured over two beautiful women and a balding man. "Licorice, he needs to breathe," he said teasingly.

She turned redder than Harry and fled back to her doll as Sirius introduced his cousin, Andromeda and her husband Ted Tonks and their daughter—

"Just Tonks," the teenager said, sparing a glare at her mother who grinned.

He ended up sitting next to Andromeda and across from Tonks after Licorice left to go have christmas dinner with her parents in their rooms while Remus and Sirius fought each other with the toy wands from their crackers.

All wore the hats from their crackers and the meal was incredible then Harry and Tonks ended up sitting by the fire.

"Do you like music?" Tonks asked.

"I haven't really heard a lot except for soundtracks from movies."

"Here, check these out," she said, picking up her satchel and digging through it until she found a Sony Walkman.

For the next three hour Tonks gave Harry a crash course on east coast rap, punk music, and glam rock. Harry liked the east coast rap but loved the punk.

"Dora, it's time to go," Ted said. "It was wonderful to meet you Harry."

* * *

Harry stepped off the boat then turned to help Marianna. She smiled and patted his cheek then she, Atum, and Zebedee moved off to make sure the island was properly secured.

"They've got their own place to stay in," Charlus said, "and they'll set it up later. For now, Sirius, Remus, follow them. You might learn something. Charlie, Bill, your bungalow is the one near the tree line. Remus will be in next one then Sirius and Harry're in the big house."

Harry looked around the cove they were in. The island was k-shaped and they were on a jetty on the 'bottom' of the shape. Covered mostly with trees, there was a cleared area from the beach to the trees where the house, bungalows, and an ornamental garden lay.

Their new house-elf, named Sinister, jumped off next and grabbed onto the piling to stop herself from swaying.

"Harry, your anti-nausea potion."

He took it out and then Charlus told the house-elf to take a small sip.

It got the house-elf over her motion sickness and a nod of thanks before she disappeared to get to work along with seven crates of supplies and to find the surviving house-elf in charge of the island.

Harry's trunk floated off as well and Charlus said, "Why don't you explore a bit?"

Harry wandered off, following the beach until he came to the tidal pools in the next cove.

He watched a large fish swimming in a pool about nine times bigger than it until he moved and his shadow crossed it. The fish leapt and crossed the rock, its tail flicking the rock as it went back into the sea. Harry grinned as it swam away.

~•~

Harry, sitting in the kitchen, was nursing a mug of cocoa and eating some chocolate chocolate-chip cookies for a mid-morning snack. "Why is your name Sinister?"

"I is left handed," she replied as she jumped from the stove to the sink. Barely a foot tall, it was amazing how strong she was as she handily lifted a cast iron skillet Harry knew weighed more than she did.

"Sinister is an old word for left handed. House-elves are nearly always ambidextrous or able to use either hand for drawing and writing," Remus said as he entered the kitchen.

Sinister nodded furiously as she set out another mug of cocoa and cookies for him.

"It's an insulting name," Remus said. "Signifying she's less than capable."

"Oh. I thought it was cool. Especially since you're so dark, it makes you sound awesome. Like my Darklings." She was much darker than the other house-elves he had seen, her skin closer to a midnight blue than the greenish-brown to brown of the other house-elves.

She grinned and blushed as Remus nodded at Harry's summation. The house-elf had met his Darklings already and while they left her feeling nervous, they served her master so she accepted them in the household utterly.

"Sirius wanted to know if you wanted to learn how to fish?" Harry nodded. "He's out on the jetty."

Harry wrapped his cookies in his napkin and before he could stand, his mug was replaced with a travel mug at a snap from Sinister.

On the jetty, Sirius was making sure the poles were ready. "Hey Harry. Ready to learn to fish?"

He nodded and held out his cookies. "Want one?"

"Thanks," Sirius said.

Soon the two were sitting on the edge of the jetty, bobbers bobbing lazily, a light wind ruffling their hair as Sirius told Harry about his and James's first year at school.

linebreak

An owl floated down out of the sky, looking extremely tired. Harry blinked then realized it was a messenger owl. "Sinister, service." The house-elf popped in. "Can you find something for the owl? It looks really tired."

The house-elf brought a bowl or water and a squealing rat as Harry undid the package. "Ah, it's from Mr. Ollivander for grandfather. Thank you," he told the bird then headed into the house, figuring his grandfather would be reading.

He found him in the library, listening to the wireless.

"A package for you, from Mr. Ollivander."

"Ah. Should be the prototype." He gestured for Harry to open it.

Harry did so, revealing a wand with a crystal at the end and a letter. He set the letter on the table so his grandfather could read it then placed the wand above it. "Ahh, he got it done! Okay, pick it up and try a circle from the top clockwise then a jab and say lumos."

Harry did so and the light on the end turned orange.

"Okay, now a jab and wingardium leviosa. And draw out the oh lad."

The wand tip turned orange again.

This time he told Harry how to do the lumos spell properly and the wand turned green. "Excellent. When it turns orange, the incantation is correct but the movements are wrong. When it turns red, both are wrong. When it turns yellow, the incantation is incorrect but the movements were correct. We will make so much money with these!"

"How so?"

"Muggleborns can't practice magic at home. For the simple reason if they mess something up there's no adult to repair it. But with these, young children pre-hogwarts age can practice to their heart's content and anyone can practice outside school. For each year a different wand will be available."

"And they could come in designer styles," Harry suggested. "For the different houses or schools or quidditch teams or gold plated and the like."

"Yes! Brilliant!"

"You could add a tracking spell," they heard and turned to see Remus standing in the door. "So if people try to practice dark magic we'll know where they are."

"Oooh, yes. Best to set up a seller in Knockturn Alley selling 'modified' versions," Charlus said, using finger quotes. "A year or so after releasing the originals. For a bit less. We can shut the store down then open a new one a month or so later for more per wand. Do this repeatedly."

"But even knowing the right motions and words, it still takes time to realize how to shape the magic," Remus warned Harry.

Harry nodded and spent the next hour testing out various spells that Remus, Charlus, and—having woken from a nap on the hammock—Sirius suggested he should learn with Sirius and Remus adding a few dozen more spells to the list of spells Charlus expected him to know by the end of Hogwarts, putting asterisks by theirs as they reordered the list by year learned.

* * *

Atum and Zebedee stood in front of humanoid Darklings, the darklings holding a marking wand and swords.

Instead of bowing, the darklings attacked without warning, sword strikes towards their necks.

The two elderly wizards reacted incredibly spryly and during the fast and furious magic duel and sword fight, they avoided serious blows and magic attacks until finally Atum triumphed over his as Zebedee 'died' to his attacker, immediately 'saved' by a real blasting curse to the Darkling, dissipating it.

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed.

"It's alright Master," the Keeper replied. "The Darkling is just a manifestation. The only ones that have real personalities are myself, a few others in the redoubt, and the oldest Lightlings. His tactics were good," he said as Sinister brought both wizards water bottles.

Charlus nodded. "You must remember, the Darklings are expendable. In a pinch, even the Keeper is expendable because a new Keeper can be reformed. You as the Wielder are the only one that is necessary and even then, once you have a son, then you can take more risks.

"But remember! Calculate your risks. Don't rush in. Think you're walking in to a trap? Send in tiny Darklings on disillusioned paper planes they can control. They'll map the area for you." He continued on and Harry made notes, entranced by the ideas his grandfather had for everyday items.

Done with the notes and Atum and Zebedee having caught their breath, the two began his first arms lesson with a makeshift buckler and a sword. "Is a lightsaber possible?" Harry asked as he practiced against a Darkling his size.

"Yes," Remus said. "But everyone who's made one has injured themselves."

Harry grunted. "Can-can magic be like locked so it can't be used against you? Like a magnet pushes away another magnet?"

"That's…," Charlus trailed off. "Wow, I don't know. That would be some serious spell creation."

An hour later, as Harry was taking another break, he asked, "What about hiring people to develop ideas, like you did with Mr. Ollivander?"

Sirius and Remus both started writing, not having been as tired out from their own practice alongside Harry's.

* * *

Their time on the island was coming to an end. A home had been purchased for their use by Dumbledore, utilizing a very small portion of Sirius's reparations, an amount Albus had to fight not to grin about when he heard Fudge bemoaning it. Sirius having donated a large portion to various charities that Fudge was on the board for did help though, and the 'small' donation to Fudge's reelection campaign.

The house was particularly nice in a neighborhood near the Dursleys but larger and not part of their suburb, instead a series of what Americans called McMansions though the lovely young woman who had shown it to him described it as an 'Executive's Home.'

It had a large three car garage with two servants flats above it, perfect for Charlus's fireteam and a furnished basement below. Suitably reinforced, that would be perfect for Remus's monthly. The house had enough rooms for Harry to have his own bedroom and walk in closet and a separate library/playroom—as most purebloods of Potters's wealth preferred for educating their children via tutors before school, offices for Sirius and Remus with living and bedroom suites for entertaining privately, a media room—Albus had been amazed by that after seeing it demonstrated, a room with lovely sconces and built-in bookcases for a library, a massive dining room with space for a twenty foot dining table, six foot walls and fifteen foot tall shrubbery gave the backyard privacy with a wrought iron gate to a small bit of forested land that sound deadened a nearby motorway, enough room in the backyard for a nice sized magical garden and two trees perfectly spaced for a hammock, and a good sized basement that Albus had spent hours placing permanent charms to enlarge it and make it safe for Harry's training with open ended spells for adding to the capabilities then adding an unbreakable bracing form to hold the walls in place should the charms be broken.

He had also found Sirius's motorcycle near where Hagrid had left it and cleaned it up, parking it in the garage.

Low level muggle avoidance spells—muggle acquaintances could approach the home but a solicitor would pass it by—had been applied, a handful of other charms and jinxes for protection, and the recentering of the spell that protected the Dursleys's home and magically reshaping it so that both homes were protected by the spell from followers of Voldemort's.

It had taken nearly two weeks of time-turner abuse to do it but now instead of a dome, a tube connected each site, creating a permanent rainbow only visible to phoenixes and any who had been healed by true phoenix tears. A risk but phoenixes would be incredibly unlikely to heal someone who wished Harry harm.

Tired, he packed up his tent and called for Fawkes. Two hours of parchmentwork for the school and Minerva knocking on his door had him turn back two hours then head into his small quarters off the office for a kip.

After his nap, he nodded to himself as he disappeared backwards in time then opened the door. "Hello, Minerva. How can I help you?"

"I had free time today and was checking the student files for next year. Mr. Potter's is in some sort of flux? Only his name was visible, everything else was randomly shifting."

"Interesting. This happened with another Potter, actually. I just finished looking at the historical records and this correlates to an issue he had as well. I will hand deliver his letter myself." A Potter who became the Wielder before the age of Hogwarts had also had this issue, the magic inherent in his abilities scrambling the scrying abilities of the school's artifacts.

"Very well. Have you returned?" she asked as she fell into step beside him, walking to the stairwell to his office.

"Yes, save Ministry and International business, I am back until August nineteenth." His usual vacation time was nine days over that, utilizing his time-turner to turn it into nine weeks on occasion.

"The Head Boy wishes to speak with you about a recommendation for an apprenticeship with any of Flamel's students living in Africa and the Weasley twins have another detention requiring your review." He raised an eyebrow and she elaborated. "They were able to set a charm on the exit to the other house's entrances to turn their uniform robes golden and their hair red. Four first year muggleborns had some sort of nervous breakdown about being soulless gingers, Albus."

He snickered. "It is a meme circulating in muggle society at the moment. Older muggles and muggleborns understand it as a joke but first years are still young enough to think the joke to be true. I believe whatever you set will be fine."

She nodded and stepped onto the stairwell after him then headed to the great hall as Albus headed towards the library.

linebreak

Harry yawned tiredly as he stood in line, waiting to reenter England. He had spent the last month in a crash course of combat training, getting a grudging pass from Zebedee, pronouncing him fit enough to qualify for auror training's physical component—obviously he didn't have the educational base to join. The three members of Charlus's fireteam expected him to be able to run a seven minute mile then avoid spells from two of them for two minutes at the end of the year.

One aspect of his training had been very exciting to him. Incantation-catching was something he hadn't even mused on being possible until Marianna caught one of Atum's spells and flung it back at him, casting her own spell right after it, cracking his protego with his own stunner and hitting him with her tickling spell.

They had spent seven days practicing with Harry catching his first spell on the third day then only doing it with any consistency the fifth before catching all spells on the seventh. Though his timing on casting his own spells after was not as good. Some Spells moved faster than others. Harry had issues with selecting spells just slightly slower and instead occasionally cast faster spells, destroying both as they connected.

"Some Spells can be energized," Charlus reminded them. "Teach him the Konig."

The Konig turned out to be a static charge spell that on its own was annoying but when used on returned spells, its charge was much more powerful, capable of turning a tickling spell into a humiliating spell that caused the person to defecate and urinate from overstimulation. It affected a list of other spells as well and Harry had put asterisks on them after adding them to the list of spells he needed to learn.

"Kid?"

Harry was broken out of his ruminations on combat training. He turned and held out his parchment scroll and identification packet for the auror. He looked at the file then at Harry, his cheeks pink. "Oh, um, welcome back, Mr. Potter!"

Harry sighed along with Sirius as everyone within hearing distance turned at hearing his name.

"Harry, portkey," Sirius said. While he didn't actually have one, Harry stepped into the shadows and said, "Shank Safety."

"Why the fuck would you say his name out loud‽" Sirius hissed at the auror. "Finish processing our group, immediately. I'll be speaking with Amelia and Moody quite soon!"

"You can't talk to me like that!"

"Really? Who's going to stop us?" Atum said as the full group of seven adults, all veterans of wars or very dangerous careers looked down upon a fresh auror. "Chief Warlock Dumbledore was expecting us. Now we must move to the safehouse and retrieve the young Master and now you have added an hour long delay of process to our day."

They continued chastising him until a superior auror came along, apologized, then fast tracked them through customs, ignoring Remus's status due to the importance of his traveling companions to Dumbledore and their relationship to Harry Potter.

~•~

Harry left the suite and immediately walked into Mrs. Barq's breasts. She hugged him and Harry relaxed into the smell of bread, chocolate, and wine that came off her as she said hello.

"Hello, Mrs. Barq," he replied into the incredibly comforting warmth of the woman's bosom. _This much contact should make me very uncomfortable_ , he mused.

She finally let go and said, "Licorice is in the village at the fete with her father. Why don't you join them?"

He hesitated then nodded. He wasn't supposed to go anywhere alone save safehouses but he knew every shadowstep-able place in the village.

He took a long route where he was never more than a few feet from a shadow then he saw Licorice and called her name.

Instantly she was a Harry seeking missile that tackled him to the ground as she hugged him then kissed his cheek. "I missed you so much!"

Her father got her off Harry then helped him up and touched his fingers to his forehead. Harry got the clue and pulled his hood into place. "How was Australia?"

"Awesome. You should go if you ever get the chance. Swimming the barrier reef is amazing, especially with gillyweed."

"What's gillyweed?" Licorice asked, holding onto Harry's arm.

"It gives you gills so you can stay underwater," her father said softly. "Tell us more later," he suggested and Harry nodded.

For the next two hours, Harry saw his shadows—Marianna and Zebedee in muggle clothes—following them. He flicked a Darkling at them and chuckled as it pinched them both before disappearing. Zebedee gave him a wink the next time they caught each other's eye but did nothing else.

Finally it was time to head back to the inn with a sleeping Licorice on her father's back.

"Taking off, really?" Sirius asked as he walked in.

"It was all calculated," Harry protested. For the next hour he had to explain his paths and plans to escape trouble. While everyone agreed his plans were good he still ended up with a future grounding. They would be staying at the inn for a few more days then they'd move to their semi-permanent home.

"Where‽" Harry asked after he was informed.

"Their house is a mile away," Sirius said. "And we'll only spend a few weeks during the summer there. The rest of the time we'll be in Australia, I think. Or traveling. There are other Potter properties and you have two living cousins in America that don't know they're _Potter_ -Potters."

Harry sighed and nodded.

"Besides, that muggle friend of yours you mentioned lives nearby," Charlus said. "What is a media room?"

"A home movie theater," Remus replied.

"Ah, like that silent thing I saw in New York?"

"Possibly," Remus replied. "But now movies are in color and people speak in them. We'll get a good collection of films."

~•~

The new house was huge, Harry thought. The house on Privet Dr. was one of a hundred just like it, only with different cladding. This home was built to last from the best quality materials, he had read in the brochure. And the Headmaster had reinforced the home with so many spells the media room and any other room where they wanted muggle things—which were all rooms they decided, save the basement and the library, which were all getting strong muggle repelling spells—needed magic attenuation spells to protect muggle devices.

His bedroom was an explosion of red and gold with a large bed covered in gold silk sheets and a red comforter, a magic proofed telly—which was useless until they got service but Remus admitted he had a workaround with pink cheeks, a huge boombox, a stack of mix tapes and a few CDs that Tonks had sent him, his comics—Harry didn't know Remus had told Sirius they were serials and his godfather had told Remus to get him subscriptions to anything related to his 'treasures,' and his few clothes in a dresser. Harry had turned his nose up at any sort of shopping spree, finding his current clothes enough until Hogwarts.

The en-suite bathroom had a door to another room, his library where his father's trunk—in its desk mode—was with the combined Potter and Black Libraries, save the darker books which were stored downstairs, and his school books. His list of spells to learn and the latest prototype of wand was sitting on top of the letter from Ollivander asking about names for it. Harry had jokingly suggested the Wave And Know Device, dropping the k from know which had gone to the top of the list of names to Harry's chagrin.

He had an epiphany and added P to the front then wrote _Prepratory_ over WAND then POTTER in between the two in brackets.

That evening at dinner—where Sinister had gone to the extreme in preparing all of Harry's favorites she had learned of in Australia—his new addition to the name got a nod of approval from Charlus.

"Excellent. The P works for both while keeping us anonymous."

"Squib artisans can do a lot of the work," Remus said. "And the first batch of prototypes can be done by us."

"Maybe sell some prototypes to muggleborns at a discount during the summer tour?" Sirius suggested. "To get feedback?"

"Wizard Ollivander's work is impressive," Atum said. "I will happily work on this."

Charlus nodded. "Yes to both."

"A lot of muggle and squib werewolves are mechanically minded," Remus said. "And the magical ones that aren't a part of _his_ pack are usually pretty good at spellwork. We could recruit from there. We might have to train up but you suggested there might be a lot more ideas," Remus thought aloud, "so even if we transfer production over to another crew they can work on the next prototype. It would create loyalty," he said, grimacing at the thought. It felt disingenuous to think it that way but a loyal pack would be good for them as well as for Harry et al.

Charlus nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Harry has had some ideas, I have ideas, Sirius had an idea that didn't involve women dressed scantily,—" Harry couldn't help giggling at that "—and I'm sure you might have an idea someday too," he teased Remus, knowing the man was more often the one who made his sons' harebrained schemes possible.

After dinner, Sirius was looking through the various board games Remus had purchased and ended up spilling one all over the place. As Sinister popped in to resort the white and red pegs into two groups for each side of the game, Remus had an idea. He grabbed his notebook—everyone now carried them at Charlus's orders—from his pocket and began sketching a modified Battleship for magicals.

As Sirius and Harry played, Harry held up the submarine Sirius had sunk. "I wonder what a magical version of this game might be like. Like nundus and dragons?"

Remus gaped at him. "That—i'm writing exactly that! A magical version. Dragons for carriers. Nundus for battleships. A magically variable battlefield. I thought Battlewizards?"

Sirius abandoned the board and he and Remus began transfiguring bits of paper into parts and the coffee table books into boards.

Harry went to get Charlus and they came back to find the prototypes done and the two discussing how to enchant the pieces.

"You'll need three versions," Charlus said. "Obscenely expensive with gold and platinum pieces and gem thingies—what are those Harry?" "Pegs." "Yes, pegs, normal where stuff moves and is marked at player's command, and then a static set where the player has to mark it like a muggle."

Remus added that to the notes.

Tired, Harry headed up to his room to listen to one of the tapes Tonks sent.

* * *

Harry looked at the backpack of his father's, finally ready to open it. He touched his father's wand—both of his parents' wands had been stored along with every other Potter wand and trophy wand in the family vault—to the small lock on it and it snapped open. He placed it back on the small stand, crossing it with his mother's so they formed a slumping X under their muggle wedding picture above their wedding bands, his mother in simple white robes and his father in gold and red overrobes over a pair of dark red slacks and a black shirt.

He touched his own wand to the base, reactivating the protection spells.

Harry opened the bag and debated between dumping it on the bed or reaching in.

Looking in, he saw three pictures on the top. One of his father holding Harry as a newborn, looking down at him supporting his back and head with his hands while Harry rested in his crossed legs, revealing the tattoos that covered his father's body, many like Sirius's.

The next photo was of his mother asleep, Harry nestled between her bare breasts. Blushing at the image, he put it aside face down.

The third was of his mother wearing a muggle outfit, a short denim skirt, rainbow tights, and a white long sleeved top tied to show off her midriff.

Harry tucked the first and third photos into the frame of the wedding photo then put the topless photo in his small safe under the bed, weighting it down with his folder of copied parchmentwork of Sirius's adoption of him. There had been a short discussion during where Sirius had suggested that while legally he was now his father, James was Harry's dad and that term was reserved for him.

Remus had pulled Harry aside after and whispered, "If you're ever ready to say something like that, I suggest calling him Pad."

Harry had shocked Remus then by hugging him. "Thanks Moony!"

Shaking that thought off, he closed the safe and reactivated the dirty pants illusion then looked at the next items. A Sneaky Pete which Harry set aside—even though he was untrained he was registered as an official independent cursebreaker thanks to a short run-in with Fudge and a handshake that got into the paper and a signed copy of said paper framed for his office, a set of pure magicite rhodium stabilized cursepicks, a pocket knife he placed in front of their wedding bands, clothing he set aside, then a book. He looked inside and read a page of poetry about his mother, turning brighter red when he realized what dewy tulips meant. "Gah!"

A bag of money he set aside to add to the safe then the last item, something wrapped in a leather cloth. Setting it aside, Harry summoned his Darklings. The Keeper and two others appeared. "Open that, please."

The nameless Darkling did so eagerly then turned to present the bollock dagger with a very ornate penal haft.

"Oh, gramps told me about that!" It was a family heirloom from the fourteenth century, an eighteen inch dagger that could turn into a stave "with a knob on one end" for casting with or "just smacking idiots" gramps had said, snickering as he did so.

Harry took it reverently then placed it in the safe with the money and the book of poetry then he placed the Sneaky Pete and the cursepicks in his satchel.

He turned and saw the pocket knife then decided to leave it there.

Standing, he said, "Sinister, service."

The house-elf appeared. "I need a hook for the wall to hold up this bag."

She disappeared then reappeared with a oak leaf shaped plaque with a hook extending from it. One of many in the house though the spares were hidden by the house-elf. "Where, master?"

"Above the shrine." Behind his parents' photos was a shrine to Hecate with a cone of joss waiting to be lit.

Once she placed it, Harry hung the bag then thanked her and went down to train with Marianna.

* * *

1\. I thought about using gendarmes or some other french term. I agonized over this decision, deciding that pre-statute, my magicals would have been close to a singular governing body for Eurasian and African magicals while the new world would be dominated by Shamans. European and Asian descent magicals in America go to Livermorny or schools in Eurasia while Native American/Indigenous descent magicals go to a school near Machu Picchu.

2\. in canon, Harry's name doesn't come from this type of Potter but in fact comes from a king nicknamed thus due to his pottering around. I don't like that canon and elected to stick to what has become a fanon convention while, at the same time, utilizing the essence of canon.**

**totally by accident.


	5. WITH

Harry sat alone in the library. His lesson for the day was over, this one had been short, discussing wand lore broadly but his wand in particular.

His wand's phoenix core was the most attuned to powerful magicks of cores but they also had a mind of their own, Atum had said. They could cast on their own at times, protecting their masters.

Harry had asked why Master was such a common term.

Atum had smiled as he stood. "Because to master magic is to master oneself. Today's lesson is done, little master, save for you thinking on that." He ruffled Harry's hair then left the room.

A soft chime filled the house. Lunch.

He found his favorite meal from Australia—a meat pie in mashed peas dashed with sriracha—awaiting him along with a bottle of fizzy butterbeer.

He ate alone. Sirius was at the Ministry working on setting up the corporate structure they needed with the Headmaster and others, the fireteam was running errands for his grandfather who was reading in the library, while Remus was visiting his father. Wth the school year over, Charlie and Bill had returned to work.

A different chime filled the house as Harry was down to his last few bites. The front door chime. Abandoning the remnants, he walked to the front door to find Sinister wringing her hands. "It's a muggle!"

He smiled and told her to make sure all magical items weren't visible then looked at the mirror that showed what was outside the front door. Eric. Harry touched the mirror to revert it then opened the door. "Hi!"

"Yo son! What happened to you?"

"Come in. My godfather finally proved he didn't do the crime he was accused of and was able to take me in. He decided to have me home schooled before I start at the independent school he and my parents went to."

"Cool place," he said, looking around. "I only have a few minutes. I gotta get ready to move. I saw you earlier but you had headphones on. Anyway, here, my comics and new address." He shoved a box of comics into Harry's hands. "If you want to be pen pals, I mean?"

"Sure. Buy why're you giving me all your comics?"

"Moving to Saudi Arabia for dad's new position and he thinks I might not be allowed to bring a lot of them into the country. My trades and the rest are outside, one sec." He opened the front door and Harry blinked as he saw two more boxes of single issues and five boxes of trade paperbacks. "I figured you'd take the best care of them. The stuff you don't like, pass on to others that will, okay?"

Harry nodded as he helped him move them in then they awkwardly shook hands. Eric taught him how to do it properly, ending the seven part 'shake' with a fist bump. "Then you blow it up," he said, pulling his fist back and opening it like a firework. Harry did the same then they redid the whole shake.

"I'll write first," Eric said. "Just in case that address gets changed. The last three times we moved the place we were supposed to have got swapped. Bye Harry."

"Bye Eric."

Remus stepped out of his office and saw the boxes and Harry's bemused expression a minute later. "Hey. What's all this?"

"Eric, the American kid from school?" Remus nodded, Harry had mentioned him a few times. "He dropped off all his comics and his new address. They're going to Saudi Arabia. His dad works in oil."

"Ah, well let's send these up to your room. Sirius returned yet?"

Harry shook his head. "He said he'd be late."

"Did you have lunch?" Remus asked as he twirled his wand.

He nodded this time as the boxes grew butterfly wings and flew off.

"I got that book you wanted while at dad's. On the pack structure of werewolves," he said, handing it over to Harry.

"Small," he said, looking at what he thought was more a pamphlet.

"Self-published by a squib werewolf. The ministry banned it being published."

Harry narrowed his eyes and added 'publish banned books' to his list of ideas. "Thank you."

Remus ruffled his hair. "Go outside and play or something."

Before he could decide what to do, their floo activated and Wallace's face showed through. "Hell—oh, there you are. Harry, Remus." They nodded hello. "I just got tasked to do the first tour through Diagon Alley for muggleborns this summer on August 2. Thought you might wanna come along or at least Sirius could show up with the prototypes."

"I wanna go," Harry said.

"And Sirius will too," Remus added.

A hat flew through the flames and landed on the floor. "Happy early birthday, Harry. Later."

Harry picked it up, brushing off the soot. "Cool." It was an all black arsenal hat with a silvery-black metallic thread embroidered logo. He took it up to his room and found his grandfather floating down the hall.

"Gramps."

"Ah, Harry. What's that?"

"A hat from Wizard Wallace. He's leading muggleborns through Diagon Alley in August and invited me and Sirius to show the wands. Think there'll be enough done in time?"

"There's usually only a dozen or so and we finished two dozen of the seven year prototypes so we're good."

Harry put the hat on top of the bust of the fourth Wielder—there were busts of the third through ninth in his library with busts of his grandfather and father [though he never became one so it was being done with eyes closed and head bowed(a compromise on Harry's part once he saw how cool it looked)] commissioned by the best dwarven stonemason—then looked around. He decided to shelve the trades for now.

Harry shook the hands of the wizards and witch, all representatives from the International Confederation of Magicals*, then sat down next to Sirius at the table.

Every one at the table picked up the parchments in front of them and all the guests shuddered at once from the paper cuts caused by the parchment. The potion on the paper immediately healed and obliviated the sixty-fourth of a second it took to cut them and introduce the Darklings hidden within the parchment.

Albus came in, apologizing about his lateness.

"Now, shall we begin?" he asked.

"Our proposal is to begin a multinational intelligence organization, utilizing technomagery enhanced optics," Sirius said.

Sirius continued speaking as Remus showed various ways of utilizing space based optics and scrying to watch for magic events visible to muggles.

Two hours later, the International Magical Security Council, in charge of overseeing the International Statute of Secrecy signed off on the creation of an intelligence organization straddling both Magical and Mundane.

"You're going to be late, Harry," Albus said after they had left.

Harry looked at his pocket-watch and his eyes went wide.

"Bye!"

As he ran off, the Keeper appeared. "Only one Darkling was required to influence them. They all agreed it is a necessary element but Monsieur Moire is running a muggle slaving and illegal potions components ring. He believes we assured him our Intelligence network won't be looking into those things. Should he commit suicide?"

"I would prefer he dismantles the organization by turning himself in," Albus said.

The Keeper pouted and Sirius laughed.

"One almost wonders if that Darkling is still in me."

"Not possible," the Keeper replied. "Even if it hadn't been dismissed in forty-two, when the master retreated to the redoubt all Darklings were recalled or dissipated."

~•~

Harry appeared in the room they'd hired in The Leaky Cauldron, then stepped out. The muggleborns were being escorted through the alley in less than an hour.

Four Darklings watched the street, using periscopes that did not transmit ultraviolet light, a result of Harry experimenting with the latest advances in muggle sunglasses. Sirius had joked about making a suit out of Oakley sunglasses but Remus had pointed out that the moon was a reflection of the sun and the moon somehow was transformative to light. That had led to a new experiment line for Harry and one more important than any other idea. Darklings able to walk in the daylight meant that he would be nearly unstoppable.

He Left the room and pulled his hood up, nodding to Tom's sister as she pushed a cart of empty plates.

In the inn portion, Harry accepted a chocobeer from Tom when the man suggested trying his new drink.

Five minutes later, Harry was pushing coins across for a second bottle. It was like the chocolate phosphate he had had during a day trip to Brisbane and lunch at a muggle vintage style ice cream shoppe.

Muggleborn children began to arrive with their parents and Harry watched them be gathered up by a ministry functionary until there was seven children. Eight more more, he knew until all the students were there.

A half hour more passed and he saw Wallace arrive then wave at Harry.

"Shouldn't you join the others?" Tom asked walking by.

"Half-blood."

"Ah, sorry, the muggle clothes threw me. Another drink? Something to eat?"

Harry shook his head and left a few knuts to cover his third drink.

All the children had arrived and Harry drifted over.

"All right everyone, let's do a quick check of names one last time then we'll head out."

"Harry?" a woman's voice said and he turned to see Miss Ellis-Bextor. "It is you! You're magical too?"

He nodded and was about to say hello when the woman's daughter said "present!" after Wallace said, "Ellis-Bextor, Sophie."

He gestured her down and whispered "for today my name is Jameson."

She wrinkled her brow, trying to remember his last name, but nodded.

"That word you were looking for? It's a Greek word. It means—"

"Lightning?"

"Yes! You found it on your own?"

The roll call was soon over and Wallace led them to the wall and showed them how to enter the Alley.

Wallace led them to the bank first.

"Most purebloods treat goblins like they're dirt. We've been at war with them so many times over the centuries that they see wizards as the enemy and we see them as greedy little buggers. Being polite or being rude, they'll treat you just the same. So be polite," he said. "Someday there'll be another treaty, right Viceclaw?"

"Yes, Wallace," said the large goblin on the right side of the door. "And I'll be very polite as I stomp on you then."

Wallace laughed. "The larger goblins are the warrior caste. The banker caste are lighter skinned and smaller. There's another few castes they don't tell us about. Inside, don't draw a wand, don't pull weapons. The Bank is their territory, not ours. It's the same in a muggle bank, basically. You're here to do business, be business-like."

The goblins nodded then opened the doors. "Welcome, Little Magicals," Viceclaw said.

Inside, temporary tables had been setup to help the muggleborns who were going to setup accounts while the rest changed money. Harry did as well, turning his fifty galleons—Sirius had lost big in poker night—into pounds.

"This is the only week of the year that there is this low of a fee for changing money," he told them. "The rest of the year it's two percent."

Back outside the bank, a man with a bit of an afro asked, "So they're in charge of your economy?"

"Essentially. The last war was a stalemate. If we continued, we would have been exposed to the muggles. The whole of Eurasian magical society was forced to capitulate to their demands to control the economy by the International Confederation, an analogue to the United Nations.

"Alright, first along the street are books. Potions supplies, pets and supplies—owls are how we send mail, I know, I know but tradition.

"Robes, miscellaneous supplies, stationery, and my favorite shop, The Silver Elephant. It's a junk shop.

"Now, let's break the group up into five groups of three. Wands take a fair bit of time so put these on your wrists," he said, handing out ribbons then watched the children tie them around their wrists. "Alright, you all have your—"

A girl whose wild hair was escaping her plaits raised her hand. "You missed a ribbon for him, sir."

"Ah, he's just tagging along out of boredom. Jameson has his wand already."

"Oooh," some of the children said and looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry blinked then realized what they were waiting for and removed his wand.

"Ah, as you can see, Jameson's wand has a grip and is very sparkly. It's been treated with a diamond coating and the grip just gives it a better surface to hold on to," Wallace prevaricated. "If you decide to diamond coat your wand it will increase the cost significantly and Mr. Ollivander will have to owl it to you."

"What does the diamond coating do?" one of the girls asked.

"Makes your wand essentially unbreakable," he replied. "While snapping a wand is possible, it takes some force. One couldn't just do it by hand. The Ministry uses a device like a pipe bender for those who have seen one. A wand coated like that actually defeated the device used."

"Why do it if it's so hard to break a wand?"

"Some people decide that it's better to have something and not need it then need it and not have it," Wallace replied. "Plus, as a bonus, you needn't ever polish your wand again." Some of the adults sniggered at that while the children looked at their parents, confused. Double entendres could trump cultural divides rather easily.

"Now that I have you grouped up—wait, everyone has your supplies list?"

The adults mostly held them up but some children held up theirs.

"Excellent. Okay, red, let's go get wands. Blue, books. Green, robes. Orange, supplies. Purple, pets—which you don't have to buy but they do give a good speech about the various choices. Then once a wand group is done your ribbons will shimmer to get your attention and tell you where to go next. This way no big pile ups of everyone trying to buy books and so on at once."

The adults all nodded as Wallace handed out maps of the alley then one adult exclaimed, "It's interactive‽"

"Yes, it shows the ribbons in the map and where the ribbon color should be along with a path. If you need anything, tap my face on the map, the handsome visage it is, and I'll come as quickly as possible."

The first wand group was Mrs. Elliot-Bextor and Sophie; the afro-haired man, his wife, and their daughter, the girl with the wild hair; and a pale blonde girl and her father who was trying not to keep peeking at Mrs. Elliot-Bextor.

In the store, Mr. Ollivander greeted them then turned to Harry. "Are you just observing?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "Tell your grandfather I have a few ideas I'd like to hash out with him face-to-face."

"Yes, sir."

He turned to the children and nodded to the wild haired girl who introduced herself as Hermione Granger.

"Why are they calling you Jameson?" Mrs. Elliot-Bextor asked softly as she sat down next to Harry.

"Because he is very famous," Wallace said just as softly, sitting down next to her, watching as Ollivander gathered wands and the two other girls stood near Hermione, watching intently.

Soon the other parents gravitated towards the seats and joined them.

~•~

The girl with the wild hair smiled hopefully at the woman working behind the counter. "Are there any other books you suggest for muggleborns?" she asked hopefully.

She didn't notice her father mouth 'She loves to read!'

"In fact, I have a list of very good books for those interested in knowing a little bit about just about everything," she replied as she handed over a list of books.

"They're sorted by price," she told the girl's parents as the girl disappeared down an aisle, her plaits bouncing. "From cheapest to most expensive."

The Grangers paid for the necessary school books—the store kept stacks of all the books necessary, both used and new, for first year muggleborns—then wandered off to look around as well.

They eventually found Hermione in a more age appropriate section than they ever assumed they would find her in. She was looking at a book called _The Further Adventures of Harry Potter: Harry v The Gorgon's Gorgonzola._

"None of these seem even remotely possible," Hermione muttered.

Her father looked at one. "They're likely like your Encyclopedia Brown stories, Fuzzy. Not impossible but highly improbable."

Hermione glared at him for calling her Fuzzy in public but nodded eventually and put the books back save the first book in the series. It joined her stack of books.

~•~

With all supplies bought, the group was standing outside Florean Fortescue's shop.

"And now for the final announcements and one last presentation after that then ice cream!" The children cheered.

"These are your tickets for the train. We've discussed how to get on it but within the ticket is another set of directions. Most of you elected to get your wands diamond coated, yes?"

"We all did," one boy corrected.

"Ah, well, your wands: you are not to practice magic outside of school until you are of age. I know this seems incredibly unfair but if something goes wrong there isn't another magical person to fix your mistake. A great example. I mispronounced an incantation this morning due to my tiredness and set my coffee mug on fire instead of heating up my coffee from last night. My wife was livid! My kids thought it was hilarious." So did the ones standing before him.

Wallace went through other prohibitions and announcements then handed out small pamphlets to the parents before leading the kids into the shop. They all stared at the hundreds of flavors available.

"Hello everyone, I'm Sirius Black and I'm hopefully only going to take up a few minutes of your time."

A board shimmered into view, showing a large white wand with a pyramid shaped diamond embedded in one end and an orange oval gem on the side. A dozen of the wands were mounted on a display under the large display.

"Now, as Mr. Wallace told you, you can't use your wands outside of school. But with all your textbooks, you can, of course, grab a twig and practice the shapes but how do you know you've done it perfectly? You can't. But with a P-WAND—A Preparatory Wave And kNow Device—you can practice and know for a fact that your form and incantations are correct. Would anyone care to try one out?"

Hermione's hand was the first up.

"Have you read any of the spells?" Sirius asked as he handed her one of the P-WANDs.

She nodded. "I just read about the repair spell."

"Excellent, it has a wand movement and an incantation.

"Now, when you get a spell incantation and the movement wrong with this device, the crystal flashes red. Incantation only wrong, then it turns orange. Wand movement wrong but incantation right? Yellow. Both correct, green. And if you've gotten it wrong ten times, it says the incantation aloud and moves your hand in the correct movement. You can also hold the orange gem to get a random spell to practice by saying what year spell it is then letting go.

"Now what's your name?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Alright, Miss Granger, go ahead."

"Reparo," she said, doing the backwards C for the spell.

It flashed red.

Hermione looked incredibly disappointed until he said, "the repair spell needs you to start at the ten o'clock position and end at the six o'clock. The correct pronunciation is 'reh-PAH-roh,' make sure you put the emphasis on that."

She tried again and the wand did a green light.

"Anyone else want to try?"

Soon every child was holding a P-WAND, including Harry, and being run through a half a dozen first year spells by Sirius.

A half hour later, every student had bought a P-WAND, even the two parental holdouts changing their mind when Sirius revealed that the prototype versions had all seven year's magical spells and numerous Mastery spells, a large book with all the spells on the P-WAND, a spell upgrade program, a lifetime replacement on it with a phone number to call for help along with discount access to a twice a week workshop in the summers. And was only five gallons, two less than if they bought one for each year regularly.

After most had left, Harry was waiting on Sirius when he asked, "So who was the hottie with the cute daughter?"

He ignored the hot and cute part. Sirius was always commenting in the attractiveness of women, gramps had said it was due to being a massive hound. "She's the librarian at the library near our place? She found a word I was trying to figure out before I became the Wielder. It was the purifying lightning spell from my dreams I have. It was great-great-grandfather's favorite spell to use on his enemies. Gramps said I should start trying it fifth year or so. He liked it too but was trying to create the opposite of demon fire?"

"Fiendfyre," he corrected.

Sirius paid Florean for the use of the store—10 sickles for every wand sold and a galleon—then he summoned Sinister and had her pack off all the stuff. "Well then, what do you want to do?"

"Head home. Tired."

Sirius nodded at Florean then they stepped outside. As soon as Sirius took ahold of Harry's hand, he apparated them to the woods outside the house. Harry let go and shadowstepped to his room and was pulling off his hoodie when he heard a woman start humming The Entertainer.

He whipped his hoodie off and had his wand in hand, blades extended then saw it was Tonks sitting on his 'new' chair, a flawless reproduction of the First's father's throne which was in the redoubt. The Darklings had surprised him with it on his birthday and Remus had charmed it.

"Why've you got an incredibly awesome throne?" She hadn't been able to attend the small party.

"Reproduction of an ancestor's. What are you doing in here?"

"I was writing you a note," she said, holding up a notepad. "When did you learn to apparate silently‽ And how're you not getting a fine for it?"

"Not apparition, family magic. And no, I can't teach it to you. Only the firstborn can do it."

She pouted as she tossed aside the parchment and standing. "Did you listen to the Metallica tapes?"

"Yeah. I liked The Dwarves more but their stuff was good too."

"Excellent, we're going to a concert on the seventeenth. As a late birthday gift."

She hugged him then let go and headed out.

He undressed then put on a pair of sweats and closed his bedroom's blackout curtains.

He slipped his new Runrig tape into the boombox then sat on his bed, holding his seven backup wands. A Darkling appeared, holding the dart board from the training room in the basement.

"C'mon Master, you can do it!"

Harry flipped the wand so he was holding it by the sharpened side then threw it at the Darkling's head. The Darkling got the board up but the rubber side hit and it bounced away. "Right for my eye, Master!"

"It didn't stick," Harry complained.

This time he tried by starting with the eraser side in his hand for the throw.

Same result but this time it bounced off the Darkling's ear. "Better, Master!"

For the next hour, he kept trying, hitting the Darkling a couple times, once hard enough with the point facing the correct way he had to summon a new one.

"You could always enchant them for throwing," his grandfather said, floating into the room.

"I know. But if I can throw anything without having it enchanted to be thrown, It'll be better."

"Good lad. What are you listening to, though‽"

"They're a Scottish punk band."

"Really? Well then carry on." His grandfather very much wanted him to explore his Danish, Scottish, and Welsh ancestry. His mother's Irish ancestry was considered important but his grandfather had admitted he personally felt it less important but Harry shouldn't. When Sirius had joked that shagging sheep wasn't cultural his grandfather's ghost had actually knocked Sirius's tea into lap.

*one of the changes i'm making is renaming anything that's patronymically named to a gender neutral name.


	6. FEAR

Harry was sitting at the breakfast table, idly poking at the remnants of his dutch omelette.

Sirius returned to the dining room and said, "I need to go into Diagon Alley, to look at a space to potentially purchase for a storefront. You want to come along?"

"Sure," he said and pushed the plate away and went to grab his overrobes.

In his room a Darkling was just standing on the small shelf next to his boombox, his form even more amorphous than usual. Harry made a mental note to really discover his form for them, something he found both comforting and terrifying. "What are you doing?" he asked as he shed his sweats and pulled on his black BDU trousers then pulled on his Arsenal hoodie followed by his favorite overrobes. He wasn't a fan of the type Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, and the fireteam wore due to constant tripping over the hem.

"Guarding your room, Master. The cat urinated in here yesterday." A gift to them from Mrs. Figg, it was more cat than kneazle and didn't like Harry. The dislike was mutual.

"Don't kill it, just keep it out of my room."

As soon as he was downstairs, the fireteam appeared—alerted by the Keeper they were needed, Harry decided—as he told Sirius about the cat.

"I'll put a cat repelling spell on your door and talk to the cat later." It was kneazle enough to understand him when he was Padfoot.

They apparated once they were in the forest and reappeared in the small room in the inn set aside for apparition.

Stepping out quickly, they joined the other wizard and witches queuing to enter the alley from the inn.

"How come there were so few people when the muggleborns went through?"

"Since it's the same day every year, most avoid the alley so they don't have to wait for the tour to finish up. Same with the first days of the breaks and the first week of the summer. Most parents bring their kids those days to deal with presents, new clothes, and so on so everyone else avoids the alley. Your dad and I loved shopping on those days."

"Why?"

"Pranking."

Harry nodded. It was only in their sixth year people started hiding in fear over the unexplained deaths and disappearances.

"How—how did dad deal with grandma's death and gramps' disappearance?"

"Well he knew your grandfather wasn't dead," he said softly. "And your grandparents were both rather old and your grandmother poorly after illnesses so her death wasn't unexpected."

Harry nodded, lost in thought until a loud voice called out "SIRIUS!"

He turned to see a massive mountain of a man heading their way. In his peripheral vision he saw various people watching and Sirius wave off the fireteam.

The man grabbed up Sirius and he realized the man was even taller than Harry had thought. Sirius was six foot one and the man was another two or three heads taller. He estimated the man was eight feet tall.

He heard Atum cast a privacy spell and saw a gold bubble of light surround them all as Marianna said the man was an old friend of them all. An Egyptian privacy spell, Harry realized, recognizing it from his dreams.

Sirius was set down then the man looked down at Harry as Harry looked up and his eyes went wide. "Harry?" he breathed.

"Harry, this is Hagrid[1]. Hagrid, Harry."

"Cor, I 'aven't seen yer since yer could fit inna palm of me 'and."

Once Harry got through his thick accent, he realized what he meant. "So..., a week ago?" he asked, looking at the man's hands.

Hagrid snorted then let loose a great belly laugh, patting him roughly on the head.

He asked what they were doing in the Alley and Sirius said, "Looking into purchasing a storefront. The one across from Ollivander's. For a wand that teaches—actually, I could use your help with it," he said to Hagrid and asked him to come visit them in a half an hour at the shop.

"Aye, enuff time ter finish Albus's errand. Gotter get somethin' fromma vault fer 'im.""

Once the two were done talking, Harry and Sirius walked on. "Hagrid is the keeper of the grounds and forest at Hogwarts. He's near eighty and was a good, good friend of your parents and Remus and I."

"He's eighty‽ He looks as old as you!"

"Not sure if that was a compliment to him or an insult to me," Sirius said.

For a moment, Harry looked nervous until his godfather laughed and pulled him tight in a side-hug.

The building across from Ollivander's was new looking compared to the rest and made of brick and mortar instead of wood.

The witch representing the owner was there and showed them the three floors flats above it and the tiny half-dozen places under the place after Sirius proclaimed the place viable after some dwarven remodeling.

"Why dwarves?" Harry asked.

"Humans for woodcraft, goblins for metal, dwarves for stone," Sirius said. "Magical affinities. It's why most buildings are wood. Few can afford craftsdwarves. A wizard or a witch can work in either and become just as skilled but it's like putting an Olympian runner up against a greyhound. The dog is better built for running than the human."

"Oh. That's what he meant." Harry didn't elaborate but Sirius was sure he meant a conversation with Charlus.

Sirius offered fifteen percent under the asking price and she promised to owl within a week.

Across the street, Sirius removed one of the P-WANDs and asked, "Can I enlarge this for Hagrid without causing issues? And have you ever thought about wands for squibs? They can do certain spells to help with cleaning and the like." It was a question Harry had had a few days before during dinner.

"Be powered by replaceable temporary magicite cores," Harry suggested. "To create a long-term customer. And a subscription service to replace the cores?"

Ollivander looked curiously upwards as his wand twirled and the P-WAND in Sirius's hand grew twice as long and almost twice as thick. "I shall owl you as soon as a working prototype is ready. Same monetary arrangements?"

Harry nodded and Ollivander held his hand out. A second shake with Sirius sealed the deal.

Outside, Harry pointed at the top floor. "Tonks is looking for a flat. I bet she'd like one."

"Her mum would kill me."

Harry grinned then turned at Hagrid calling Sirius's name. He was holding an owl in an ornate cage and held it out to Harry. It was a beautiful white owl who looked Harry over then seemed to nod. "Alaria sed 'Arry dint 'ave an owl."

"Alaria? She runs the Owl Registry at the Emporium now?" At Hagrid's nod, he turned to Harry. "The Owl Registry tracks the purchase and ownership of owls to make sure they're properly cared for. Which breed is that?"

"Snowy Owl," Hagrid said as Harry accepted the owl. "Yer parents're greatly missed."

Sirius handed over the massive wand, wrapped in a length of conjured cloth and the manual for it then went into the spiel. "I know you can't have a wand but someday you may. You won't be NEWT level but they're all the spells a wizard should know by the end of school."

Hagrid sniffled then hugged Sirius again who groaned at the strain on his ribs.

"Does he—err, she? Anyway, named already?" Harry asked.

"Err, no, ye'll havta do that," Hagrid said, wiping moisture from his eyes. "An' she'sa girl."

~•~

Harry sat on his bed, the owl resting on the back of the throne. "The first of my family had a mother named Jadwiga. The english translation is Hedwig. It's also a name I saw in my History of Magic text. How do you feel about that?"

She flew to him and landed on his shoulder, nibbling at his hair as he laughed. "I guess you do like it.

"You'll need to meet some people."

He stood carefully then pulled his blackout curtains.

Darklings began to appear and Hedwig brought her wings up, ready to take flight until they began to bow.

"Why're you bowing?"

"Always bow to magical animals[2]," the Darkling advised. "Hedwig will he protected by us always, Master. Request the werewolf purchase a mail harness for her and you will soon need hollow, openable medals or some sort of token for your followers to wear that Darklings can reside within to protect them."

Harry imagined a hollow saint medallion and nodded. His grandfather's fireteam wore such medallions. "Good idea."

He dismissed them then set Hedwig back on the throne and sat in it, picking up his history book. "See? Here's the name?"

Harry closed his book and stood. "Hedwig, if you get hungry, you can ring that bell and Sinister will bring you a mou—"

The bell was instantly rung by a rapid peck of her beak.

"—se or you can fly outside…," Harry finished.

He chuckled as he finished pulling his hoodie on then picked up his shoes and headed downstairs as he heard Sinister pop up and the squealing of a frightened mouse then a barking hoot.

He was tying his laces as he sat on the steps when the front door opened and Tonks said, "Hey, ready?"

The bell rang again and Harry snickered.

"What was that?"

"I told Hedwig she could ring a bell in my room to get a mouse delivered."

Tonks laughed as Harry yelled, "Sirius!"

"We're going now," he told his godfather when he looked out of his office.

"Got your portkey?" Harry nodded. Subterfuge for Tonks. "Wand?" Nod as he tapped the chamaeleon skin dropleg holster on his thigh. "Backup wands?" Another nod and a tap on his forearm and their sheath connected to a spiked wrist band from Tonks. "Money?"

"Two hundred pounds and fifty galleons."

"Have fun."

"Why so much in galleons?" Tonks asked as they went out to her waiting car, a Land Rover 127. Harry had been surprised the first time he saw it and even more surprised that the muggle neighbors had thought the military surplus vehicle a great treat to see, shocked how a few thousand feet and more disposable income could make a person see an old vehicle as a sign of class where the denizens of Privet Drive would have seen her as an uncouth barbarian. She had received half a dozen offers to purchase it and even an offer to trade it for a brand new Lotus Elan that came with a marriage proposal. She had turned him down, deflecting it with her father and her cousin more than willing to violently disappear a cute man older than them trying to date her. The 'suitor' had laughed uproariously.

They stopped at McDonald's and got dinner to go then spent the ride with Harry quizzing Tonks for her entrance quiz to the Auror Academy.

* * *

Albus walked out of the governors' meeting, extremely satisfied. Decades of mismanagement of funds—another curse of Riddle's he was sure—had just been negated he hoped. Instead of the governors managing the fund—and embezzling, he knew but couldn't prove due to the curse—the goblins would now manage a greatly expanded fund due to a rather large bequest from Charlus Potter, due to a 'recently discovered' document.

Now he could once again restart certain classes, have multiple instructors for fields—Minerva and the rest of his staff shouldn't be required to abuse a time-turner to do their jobs. And now he had to decide what to do about Severus. His spy needed to be protected in case he was ever needed again but was dreadfu—then epiphany struck and Albus did a little jig before apparating to Hogsmeade.

He walked to his brother's inn. They may not have been on good terms but Aberforth was still an excellent spymaster, as good as Sirius had been turning out to be by the end of the war. He made a mental note to suggest to Sirius he should reactivate his network but wouldn't he surprised if he hadn't already.

"A few moments is all I require," he told his brother once inside.

As he related his plans, Aberforth nodded occasionally. "I won't spend my informants."

"I would never ask you to," Albus said. "And one last request. Please find Slugworth? I will soon be able to afford the proper amount of staff for the school."

Aberforth nodded. "Good day."

Albus nodded himself then left. A chilly reception but no epithets: he decided it went quite well.

* * *

Sirius's eyes snapped open and he looked at the clock. Almost three. Tonks and Harry were sneaking into the house, trying not to be noisy. He pulled his invisibility cloak over himself and waited on the couch, not wanting Harry to think he waited up for them as he had. Or tried.

A few minutes later, he went upstairs to find Harry asleep on top of his duvet still dressed, a bag of concert items on his throne—though Sirius wondered why he had elected to buy such a weird looking guitar, a Darkling watching his master sleep, then a half-dressed Tonks—her tee and boots were off but jeans were still on—in her "permanent-so-it-really-wasn't-a-guest" room as she had put it. Sirius grimaced when he realized seeing Tonks's breasts felt quite wrong.

He went to his room and sent Sinister in to get them in bed properly as he fell onto his own bed, avoiding Cleopatra, their finally named cat—after a girl they went to school with who had wet herself in her sixth year.

~•~

At breakfast the next morning, Tonks kissed Harry's cheek goodbye, turning the boy a brilliant red.

Once she was gone, Sirius smirked. "Okay, so aside from that—which I will grill you about—how was the concert?"

"It was amazing! AC/DC headlined and they were okay. The rest of the bands were better than them."

He went on and on about the acts until finally Sirius asked, "Okay, so what was with the major blush from the kiss? She's hugged and kissed you before."

"Who kissed him?" Gramps said as he floated into the room.

"Tonks kissed him goodbye and he turned oh so red."

"Ahh, the metamorph. Your gran had the talent. Not as good as your cousin. She could do her hair and eye color. So What caused the blush?"

"She flashed the band just as I turned around to ask her something and accidentally, ermm, licked her n-nipple." It wasn't exactly a lick but he wasn't sure how to put how her nipple went into his open mouth. Every male nearby who had seen it high-fived him. His shoulder still ached from it, especially since Hetfield had seen it and he and Tonks had gone backstage and he had told the band how it happened. Hetfield and all the other bands' members had signed Hetfield's guitar and taken pictures with him and Tonks.

Sirius looked at him in awe as Charlus looked impressed. "Wow, it took your dad to fifteen to get that far with a witch! Oh, why did you buy a guitar?"

That led to the story of going backstage and how Harry had received a guitar with a sticker that said EET FUK on it.

Late that evening, Tonks' owl, a sooty owl with a gas problem, arrived with a thick packet and Harry opened it to find she had had her film developed magically. The picture version of him was either looking very chill with all the bands or staring at Tonks in awe as she flashed either bra or breasts in a couple of the shots.

He put them in his safe except one of her flashing with just him and the guitar in the shot, placing it as a bookmark in his ideas notebook.

* * *

With September 1 looming ever larger, Harry was figuring what exactly to take to school: specifically what to carry and what to keep in the trunk.

He had it in the desk mode at the moment and placed all the books and stationery supplies on it as the Keeper did the checklist and Charlus waxed nostalgic about his own first year and James's.

"Your dad's first year I really went overboard. Bought him the best broom, an obscene amount of candy, fully enchanted combat robes," he mused as Harry grinned while Sirius leaned in the doorway and Remus in the hall laughed. "Your dad is why first years aren't allowed brooms. He kept flying through the halls, trying to set a record for every hall."

He decided to keep his notebook and half the stationery supplies in his satchel; his two lists—the Darkness list and the list of magicks he was interested in finding out more about; some candy; two of his backup wands—with three more in the desk and the other two on the strap for his wrist; his dad's old pocket knife next to his wallet and coin purse; his dad's old auror kit which Remus was updating—he still wasn't sure what it was beyond common use potions and a 'muggle interaction kit;' he rolled up his posters of Iron Man, the Holyhead Harpies, his runebreaker poster—Bill had made it for him, an interactive teaching poster that taught him how to break runic arrays safely, and a dragon morphology poster from Charlie that showed how to fight and dissect a different dragon every day, then put them on the dresser next to his wallet; and his current comics went into his satchel. "Do you want me to forward you your comics or save them for when you come home on breaks?"

"Forward," Harry said after a moment of thought. "Just put them in their bags before you shrink them."

"I'll do that," Remus said. "Sirius would end up shrinking just the plastic." Sirius made a rude gesture at Remus.

With his satchel filled, Harry put the books and stationery supplies in the desk then touched his wand to the desk and it shifted to a wardrobe. He hung his uniforms save one and most of his muggle clothes then placed the various dark arts detectors and the like Charlus had made him collect from the vault on its top shelf. His muggle trainers stayed out—they had been orange and green and Harry had been disappointed that the shoes he liked were only available in that combination until Sirius reminded him about permanent color changing charms: now they were dark red and gold, while his two pair of school shoes—essentially fur lined slippers Harry thought but Sirius nodded at the design and said the school was in Northern Scotland and was cold and drafty, a reason for students to learn spells faster. He had been practicing walking in the school uniform and had finally gotten past the way the hems seemed to always twist under his feet when he realized Madam Malkin always did the length 1.5 inches longer so first years could grow. The robes came with a self hemming packet of thread he just needed to start then it would hem itself. His posters went in next, haphazardly tossed in. His pictures of his family; his favorite picture of him, Sirius, Charlus, and Remus; a picture of him and Bill giving Charlie a hotfoot; a shot of him with the fireteam practicing throwing his backup wands; the pictures from the concert in a shoe box with just one tacked up with the other pictures; and a picture of him and Licorice were on the inside of the door.

With clothes properly placed, he looked around his room. It was mostly bare. His parents' wand shrine he decided to leave at home, his throne was staying as well, and his boombox was sitting on the shelf above the head of his bed, it and its speakers stuck in place with sticking charms, its wires disillusioned. He looked at the bollock dagger and snickered, knowing he would have to leave it behind. If he ever needed it, a Darkling could retrieve it. He put it under his bed then looked around his room again. Bare. But it looked lived in somehow he thought.

He was looking at his parents' wand shrine when Sirius hugged him from behind, making him squeak. "I'm going to miss you!"

"I have my mirror," Harry said, pointing to it where it was sitting next to his wallet.

* * *

Cookie had been a little surprised to get a reservation—the last one had been in '77, he thought—until he saw who it was. Harry Potter, the not-a-Death-Eater-godfather, and a handful of others.

In a partitioned off area, the group soon had their orders for breakfast in. Cookie delivered the food himself—Molly was off dealing with her children of course—and made sure everything was perfect then went to see to his other custom, all students and their families as well.

As they ate, Sirius stood. "Hold up, hold up. I meant to do this earlier but forgot. Harry, c'mere."

Harry stood and walked to his godfather. The man took two rings out of his pocket as Charlus floated closer. "These are the heir rings. Only the confirmed heirs of families wear these. Luckily, both the Black and Potter rings go on different fingers. When you place the ring upon, say 'I accept my place in the family' to bind the ring."

Charlus looked on happily as Harry did so, remembering the day James did this as well on his seventh birthday.

The Potter ring shrank down to fit Harry's right pinky finger as he said "I accept my place in the family." The ring was simple silver with an ornate P in high relief in reverse for use in sealing envelopes.

When he did the same for the black Black ring on his right middle finger, he was surprised to see it was a bas-relief gold skull, not a backwards B.

"Oooh," Tonks said then took off two of her rings, one with TONX in bas-relief then another ring that was hinged and looked like armour. "I can't wear these during training anyway so take good care of them," she told him, putting the TONX ring on his ring finger, ignoring the chuckles around the table then putting the ornate tungsten armour one on his index finger.

"It does look pretty cool," Harry admitted, looking at his hand.

Finally it was almost time. Remus settled up and left a hefty tip as Harry clicked his pocketwatch to 'trap' his grandfather.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry turned and smiled at the owner as he was near the door. "Yes?"

"My daughter had an absolute fit when I told her I met you and I didn't get her an autograph. Co-could I trouble you for one?"

There were laughs from everyone as Harry flushed and nodded. He used his quill to sign the Daily Prophet with him and the Minister shaking hands then shook the man's hand.

On the platform, they saw others had begun to arrive and one other student and their parents left the diner behind them.

"Mr. Black?"

They all turned to see another first year. Harry remembered her hair and that her name started with H.

"Yes, miss?"

"My P-WAND has been awesome! Thank you so much for making them!"

"Actually, I only run the company that makes them. The initial prototype was designed by someone else and created by Ollivander before our artisans got to the design." The initial prototype was in Harry's satchel, redesigned to help him with Darkness specific spells as he discovered them since he wasn't to use them with a real wand until Sirius, Remus, or Marianna considered him qualified. "But I will pass along your words of encouragement."

She nodded and looked like she wanted to say something else but was called over by the witch from the Ministry who was tasked to make sure the muggleborns made it through the door and onto the train since their parents couldn't go through without help of an adult.

Harry saw Sophie wave at him from the group and he waved back.

"Harry!"

He turned and saw Licorice running towards him then she was hugging him tightly, Mrs. Barq walking up to them slower, waving hello.

"We came to see you off! And I've decided to go to Hogwarts!"

~•~

Harry sat in the compartment he had selected, reading a dossier of all the current and new first years of established families at Hogwarts.

Charlus had thought about having backgrounds done up of muggleborns but had decided it was a pointless expense.

There was a knock on his door and the red-haired boy from the pub was in the door. "Uh, can I sit here? My brothers' friend has a spider."

Harry realized that must have been the shriek he had heard a few moments before. "Sure."

As the boy got his trunk situated, he hesitated then asked, "Are-you're Harry Potter, right? I saw you at the pub when my mum was working."

"Yeah, you're Ron Weasley, right?"

He gaped. "Ho-how'd you know‽"

"Bill and Charlie. They were my tutors."

"That's what they were doing? They said they couldn't talk about it!"

"I don't think they could."

"Home come they were your tutors?"

"Because they're in fields my family was in and they recently finished at Hogwarts."

"Which house do you think you'll be in?"

Harry shrugged. "Any would be fine. Well, except Slytherin. I mean, my grandmother was in Slytherin but this shows most of the people who hate my family have children in it," Harry replied, shaking the folder lightly. Harry knew he'd never sleep well in that House unless it was atop a pile of Darkling slain children. "But probably Gryffindor since everyone in my family has been for the most part."

"What's that?"

"My godfather had everyone at Hogwarts now or going this year investigated and this has information about them."

"Why? What's it say about me?"

"Not much about you because your brothers were my tutors, my godfather knows your dad, and your uncles were his friends so there wasn't really a reason to research your family."

"My uncles? But they're dead."

Harry nodded. "But Sirius was in some sort of secret order with them and I guess he taught them some really good pranks? He doesn't like talking about that time much."

Ron nodded. "Neither does my mum. Dad does occasionally."

He had been glancing at Harry's scar. Fidgeting, he asked, "Does that still hurt?"

Harry nodded. "Occasionally. The Headmaster said it will take years to go away."

"Do you—"

Before he could finish the question, the girl from the station knocked then opened their door, revealing a boy was slightly off to the side, looking around. "Have you seen a frog? Only Neville has lost his."

"No," Harry said. "Ask a prefect. They'll know the summoning spell and'll have the control to summon without hurting the frog."

"Ooh, I had practiced that with the P-WAND but I didn't want to try it on something alive. Thanks!" She dragged Neville off as he stammered thanks for the idea.

"What was she talking about?"

He took his out of his satchel. "The P-WAND is for students. It will let kids practice spells without actually casting out of school. Wanna try it?"

"Uhh, sure."

Harry demonstrated how it worked, showing the lumos spell then Ron tried. He got a red light the first time then a yellow then a flawless cast. "Cool, yeah? My godfather sold a bunch to the muggleborns so they could test out the design and make them better."

"He sold them unfinished?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "You sell a prototype for less than the cost of a full version but you throw in some extras so they're happy to test possibly faulty things so you can get more info so your finished product is the best you can sell in the future. People love being able to get something cool before someone else."

Ron goggled at the idea but as he thought about it, came to think it was brilliant.

The girl and Neville returned a few moments later with Neville holding his frog. "Thank you!" he said.

"I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger and this is Neville Longbottom."

Harry invited them in and Hermione asked, "why does your P-WAND look so different?" Instead of ivory white with orange gems, his was stained a dark red with gold nuggets instead of gems.

"This is the one I built," Harry said. "I hung out for a few days with the artisans while they were studying the original and the instructions to make them and assembled it myself." Technically, his was the original, disassembled as they studied it. He reassembled it himself after staining and replacing the gems on it.

Hermione looked like she was in awe.

"How come you were hanging out with them?" Neville asked.

"Well they work for us and Remus was getting the pack setup in their new place in France so I went along."

Ron looked a little annoyed at the two joining them but didn't say anything.

"Pack?" Hermione asked.

He nodded. "Our prototyping artisans are all werewolves. They're all so cool! They have awesome motorcycles and the castle they're living in now is shared with Trappist monks that make the best butterbeer I've ever tasted! Actually," he said then reached into his satchel, removing four bottles. "Here."

"What's a Trappus?" Neville asked and Ron nodded.

"Some kind of religious order," Harry said. "The castle they're in is owned by my family and they make wines and beers. But they're all magical. It's one of four all magical religious orders in the world, Remus said."

"It's not got alcohol?" Hermione asked, making sure.

"A tiny, tiny bit," Harry said. "If you drank like fifty bottles you could get drunk maybe."

"I've never tried the fizzy kind before," Ron said with a caramel colored Hitler mustache.

"It's really good," Hermione said and Neville nodded.

"It's better than Olde Winkham-Upon-Thryne's," he said. "Where do you get it? I mean, where would _I_ get it?"

"My godfather is setting up an importer for it now. We'll have a century lock on sales. For now, though, not available until we have distribution deals in place."

"Werewolves are real?" Hermione asked.

All three boys nodded. "My godfather's best friend is one," Harry said. "People are dumb about them. One day a month they're dangerous. So that day? Remus is locked in the basement with Sirius. Sirius can turn into a dog so he's safe. The rest of the month? He's absolutely fine."

"There are the dangerous ones though," Neville said. "Like Greyback."

"There are dangerous magicals, too. Anyway," Harry said, "and dangerous muggles." Hermione nodded at that.

Ron's stomach growled just as there was a knock at the door. An older woman smiled as Harry opened the door and said, "anything from the cart?"

Knowing a Mars Bar was quite unlikely and not extremely familiar with commercial magical candies, Harry ended up getting half a dozen of each item. Hermione looked over the offering and was intrigued by the tooth-flossing stringmints while Neville declined, saying he had left his money in his trunk.

Ron purchased two chocolate frogs—Charlie had given him some pocket money for doing some work for him—as Hermione said, "You know all that sugar is bad for your teeth, right?"

He nodded. "This'll last me until Christmas easily."

"Agrippa!" Ron squealed. He pointed at Hermione who had picked the chocolate frogs for him since moving around was a little difficult. "You are good luck!"

"What?" she asked.

He held out the card proudly, showing a lovely witch holding an ankh shaped wand. The card waved. "Very rare card," Neville said. "Do you collect, Harry?"

"Uuh, no. I have my dad's collection which Sirius said was complete back then. I guess I should try to get anything new. You?"

"I collect Cauldron Cake cards. They have plants and their uses. Gran said my dad used to collect Bertie Bott's cards but his collection got lost. Those cards are puzzle pieces that make lifesize posters of quidditch players."

"What's with the rings?" Hermione asked.

He explained two were family rings and the other two his cousin's and since she couldn't wear them during training, she expected Harry to wear them for her.

Ron and Neville professed they were incredibly cool once they saw Tonks' photo.

~•~

They were nearing the village when an older student knocked on the door. "Still got your frog?" Neville held it up. "Time to get changed."

"We'll let you get dressed first," Harry told Hermione after a prompt from the Keeper in his ear.

"I'm just slipping my robes on over what I have on," she said.

Harry and her stepped out and did the same thing, pulling robes on over their muggle clothes while Ron and Neville slipped out of their robes and into their school robes in the compartment. Others were standing outside, waiting as others changed then Harry saw someone waving and realized it was Sophie.

He waved back then turned to Hermione. "Did you meet Sophie? Her mum is a librarian and her dad is a famous author, her mum said." Books had been a common theme in conversation with Hermione during the trip.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, he wrote one of my dad's favorite books. Her mum got my dad an inscribed first edition for his birthday with Mrs. Ellis-Bextor's help after mum recognized her name from an acknowledgment and their talking."

Back in the compartment, Neville asked, "Did you not bring pets?"

"I sent my owl ahead. Sirius said it would be a pain to bring her on the train. She seemed pretty excited to fly the distance when I asked her."

"My mum and dad said I should wait to get a pet until next year."

My pet rat disappeared. Mum thinks he probably got outside and was killed or just passed away. He was really old. My brothers said they'd get me an owl next year if I do really well this year."

"My uncle got Trevor for me. He's kinda useless but when he's a few months older I can milk him for his venom for potions classes," he said, holding him up to look him in the eye.

"Venom?" Hermione asked.

"He's a demonhorn bloodfrog. They drink blood then turn it into venom. My uncle's a potionmaster at St. Mungo's, wants me to be one too."

"My grandmother was a potionmaster at St. Mungo's too," Harry said.

"I know, my uncle was her friend's apprentice. He said she was stern but brilliant."

~•~

Harry had not been a fan of the boat ride—Ron flailed and sprayed water on them all—but Hagrid had been nice to see again. Seeing the castle, though, coming around the cliff, was magnificent. Backset by the moon on one of the towers, it was like a movie scene.

There was a whispering sound then whiteness and Harry almost screamed until he realized it was Hedwig on his shoulder and her wing blocking his vision. He heard the Keeper snicker in his ear.

"Hedwig!"

He held his arm out and she hopped from his shoulder to his wrist. A smug look was seemingly on her face.

"Yes, yes, you found me. _And_ scared the piss out of me!"

"Language!" Hermione said.

The boats docked and Harry launched Hedwig. "Go find some dumb mouse."

"Mice are very smart," Hermione said.

"Not compared to Hedwig," he replied.

She opened her mouth then closed it. Owls did have bigger brains, after all.

Out of the boats, Hagrid did a head count and scooped up Neville's frog for him then led them up to the front door of the castle.

~•~

Harry fell back until he was the last to enter the castle. Once inside he clicked his watch crown three times, waved to his grandfather's ghost, then rejoined his potential friends as Charlus floated over to join the other ghosts to watch the sorting before he got busy doing research with Madam Pomfrey.

In the Great Hall itself, Harry looked upwards to verify the ceiling was still enchanted then looked around the school.

Hermione whispered about the enchantments on the ceiling while Harry realized the front of the hall looked different than Sirius and Remus had described it. Instead of a single table on a raised dais, there were two stacked daises with the headmaster with four people bracketing him and a lower set of tables with two dozen or so people in a C shape, surrounding a lone stool with a hat on it.

Harry was putting faces to names of potential dangers as students were called until "Ellis-Bextor, Sophie" and she pressed past. Harry softly said, "good luck" then shifted so he could see better.

The hat was on her head for thirty seconds before "Gryffindor!"

He clapped along with the others.

Then it was Hermione's turn. "Gryffindor!" again. Harry thought she might have taken a little longer than Sophie had.

Harry's turn came and he felt everyone watching him as he walked forward, wishing he was wearing his armour. He made a mental note to make armour design a priority.

When the hat fell onto his head, he heard the voice. _Ahh, another Potter. Welcome to the school._

"Thanks."

 _Just think it lad. Placing your type is always a pain. The magicks you wield hides your mind, making this take forever._

 _How do you know that?_

 _Sorted a Wielder before and conversed with prior Wielders when they were staff about the issue. So just try to think you're safe and your minions will settle. Try humming a tune you like._

Harry started humming the Ghostbusters theme. Sirius really liked the movie.

 _Ah, there we go. Now I have your measure. Thanks Lad._

 _You're welcome._

 _You're definitely not Hufflepuff material. You're loyal but the power you Wield requires selfishness, meaning your loyalty is to a select few, not an ideal._

 _Ravenclaw wouldn't fit you well either. Knowledge is the means, not the end for you._

 _Slytherin, Slytherin would fit you well._

 _It might but—_

 _—But only after you cleansed it, yes. While the stories would be amusing, Godric would be disappointed in me facilitating that. So that just leaves "_ Gryffindor!"

The house went insane as Harry made his way to it, sitting across from Hermione and Neville and next to Sophie.

Harry wasn't sure if he should be disappointed that Gryffindor was a last resort or just be happy he was in it.

Ron joined them soon, sitting next to Neville. They congratulated him as they had Harry.

Albus said a few words then the food appeared. Harry almost immediately made a vow to never sit across from Ron again. His manners were atrocious while Hermione actually cut her roll with her knife and fork and Sophie made her roast, roll, mash potatoes, and green beans into a sandwich that she also ate with a knife and fork.

With the Sorting Feast done, the Headmaster stood, tapping a fork on a lone crystal goblet at the table that resounded like a crystal gong.

"A few last announcements. As you can see, our teaching staff has been greatly enhanced. Severus Snape remains Head of Slytherin but is no longer a full time professor. Now he will only teach first Year students. Professor Margarite Morningstar is now our second through fifth year Potions professor and Professor Horace Slughorn makes his triumphant return as NEWT level professor for Potions as well as running the Potions Club." Students began clapping excitedly in most houses while Slytherins were more reserved. "For those students who received Exceeds Expectation last year and wish to continue into NEWTS, speak with Professor Slughorn at breakfast tomorrow."

Older Students at the Gryffindor table buzzed excitedly at the lowered expectations and the possible better teaching style from both new professors.

Harry meanwhile studied Snape. The dossier on him was brief and had a handwritten addition by his godfather. _Avoid_. Slughorn and Morningstar received handwritten ones from Sirius as well: _Nice but 'collects' famous students_ and _Hot!_ respectively. There was an extra page on dealing with 'collectors' in the dossier he knew he needed to study. Harry thought her pretty but not sure why Sirius had wanted to be back at Hogwarts so much after looking at the pictures of all the new staff. There had also been a page on seducing older witches but Remus had confiscated that to Harry's relief—though there had been some interest in reading it—and Sirius's disappointment.

"Professor Flitwick will continue teaching first and and NEWT classes in Charms with Professor Lilith Naamah teaching second through fifth year classes." She had the same handwritten note alongside her evaluation as an excellent professor though her french accent was somewhat thick when excited.

Professor Sprout and the new Professor Stephen Green in her department—also teaching second through fifth year, received dossiers that boiled down to _Professional_ though Professor Green's was annotated with _American Muggleborn_ and _loves hip-hop_. Harry made a mental note to cultivate an acquaintance.

Professor McGonagall had three new staff attached to her duties at the school. Witch Martine Thunder was a secretary in charge of all the new secretaries in the school and a deputy-deputy-Headmistress. Harry wondered why they didn't call her something less ridiculous sounding over dinner the night before and was told it was tradition.

The new second through fifth year professor of Transfigurations cultivated sighs from most girls when he was introduced as Jonah Ambergris.

Her third assistant was an assistant Head of House and occasional stand-in Charms professor named Cilli Blackthorne. She had an addendum to her dossier entry of _obliviated_ _ex of Sirius, don't discuss with Cilli_.

Hagrid received two support staff who were seedy but keen looking. Filch had a new assistant as well but Harry didn't catch the name of any of them due to Percy snapping at Ron.

He didn't introduce everyone sitting at the table, Harry noticed and figured they were the new secretaries that wouldn't interact with students too often.

Tired, Harry hoped they would be released soon.

"And one last notice. We are currently rehabilitating a very dangerous animal after a magic resistant injury. Do not enter the red painted hallway on the third floor. He is very angry due to the injuries received and will attack anyone."

"I wonder what kind of animal?" Percy asked aloud then turned to the new students at Dumbledore's dismissal. "First years, assemble at the end of the table, boys on my side, girls on the other side."

The first years at other tables were doing the same as the older students began filing out, chatting loudly.

Percy and another prefect did a headcount—9 boys and 11 girls—then led them out. "This is one of the faster routes to our dorms but when there's a rush for food, learning a different path can be useful. There are maps of the halls in each common room as well."

The girl prefect nodded. "In the Prefect meeting we learned there are a lot of changes. Other students used to be able to visit other common rooms. Now there are year common rooms off the library for students to study in with other Houses."

"How come there are changes, Perc?" Ron asked.

"The school funding levels went up. Mum and dad were talking about it all week, didn't you listen?"

The girl prefect chimed in with "A huge bequest was granted to the school with lots of requirements."

"What's a bee-whatever?" one girl asked.

"In this case, a large sum of money that has strings attached to it," Harry said and the girl prefect nodded.

At the door to the common room, the woman in the painting smiled. "Welcome back. Password?"

"This month's password is Fortuna," Percy said and the painting came away from the wall, hinged like a regular door. "The password will usually change on the third of the month."

In the common room, they saw all the students crowded around the far corner, excited voices filling the air.

Percy and the girl pushed forward while the first years were unable to see over the older students. "What do you think it is?" Hermione asked.

"Probably the vending machine," Harry said. "It's got school supplies, snacks, and coupons inside it."

"How do you know?" Sophie asked.

"They were my cousin's idea and my godfather made it happen."

"You know about these?" One of the older Prefects asked.

Harry nodded, a little nervous at all the attention. Ten thousand Darklings watching him like a god? Easy to deal with. Two hundred some humans? Frightening.

Harry knew in the back of his mind that it was because the Darklings were incapable of harming him but humans were unpredictable and pushed it down.

He moved closer to the devices. Unlike muggle devices which were giant boxes, the magical version was a coin box connected to an alphanumeric pad and a half circle display case of available items. The delivery hopper was in between the coin box and the display, making it look like a fat-handled sucker.

"Okay, umm, this is a vend machine. Each item inside costs a couple knuts up to two sickles," he said, looking back to verify. A Hogwarts sweater was 1 galleon, 1 sickle. "Oh, a galleon and a sickle for a sweater. I didn't think those would go in.

"Anyway," Harry said, "all you do is pop in a few coins for whatever you want, press the keys like this." He put in six knuts and pressed 2B and a bottle of fizzy butterbeer appeared, ice cold, condensation beading on the bottle. Instead of being delivered via magic, every hopper held a Darkling within that saw a display, jumped to a warehouse kept stocked by one of the Australian house-elves—who had been ecstatic to leave the overly neat island—and collected the item then jumped back, delivering the product. It was a temporary design until the fully magical version was complete. Those would utilize magically expanded interiors and house-elf restocking.

"Et voila. Fifty percent of the purchase cost goes to Hogwarts."

The muggleborns and halfbloods who spent time in the muggle world nodded while the purebloods were astounded by the device.

"Is that the good butterbeer?" Ron asked, mentally trying to figure out how how long his galleon, 10 sickles, and 12 knuts would last with a bottle a day.

"Yeah," Harry said then handed it over to one to the muggleborns. "Also, for the muggleborns, I can change money for you at ten pence a knut. We'll have an automated money changer soon, too."

~•~

Harry, Ron, and Neville met their new roommates Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan while the other four boys—Horatio Walliams, Cyril Figgis, Sterling Archibald, and Iago Montague—were in the dorm room next to theirs on the sixth floor.

Uhh, I'll take the far corner," Harry said, "if that's okay with all of you?"

Neville and Ron both shrugged while Dean and Seamus suggested cards to decide who would get what bed.

"Ahh, high draw?" Harry asked, pulling a pack of cards out of his satchel.

They all nodded and Harry flicked five cards onto the beds signifying which was which, the closest to the door was ten, the farthest nine, the middle three were six, two, and four.

Harry shuffled the cards then spread them along the floor.

Neville drew first and got a Jack.

Ron drew next and got a three. "Are they supposed to match?"

"Nah, we look at the order of our cards and then your card matches the order of the bed cards."

Ron thought about it then nodded. "Ah, okay, I get it."

Harry grabbed a card and got a ten.

Dean pulled a five.

Then Seamus pulled a two.

Neville ended up with the bed closest to the door then Dean, Seamus, Ron, and Harry.

They got their trunks situated then Harry opened his to the wardrobe mode.

"That's amazing!" Ron breathed.

"How much was that?" Dean asked when Harry explained it also had a desk with an adjustable writing surface.

"I don't know. It was my dad's. You could owl the trunk place in Diagon Alley and ask."

Dean immediately got out some parchment to find out. He sketched both versions of the desk then asked, "What's the name of the place?"

"Wiseacre's Magical Equipment," Neville said.

Harry saw a little tray at the head of the bed and pulled the thigh holster off his robe then put the wand on the tray.

"That is a cool holster," Seamus said. "How come I didn't see it on your robe?" It was bright gold.

"It's made from chamaeleon skin. If you want one, they're eight sickles. My godfather had to import it though so it'd probably not get here until christmas."

He got into his pyjamas then ended up joining the others for a card game.

* * *

[1]removing Hagrid being loose-lipped, except when drunk.

[2]why am I calling Hedwig magic? Going with every animal is magical due to the use of non-magical animal components in potion ingredients in canon. My read is that everything is magical, just some people are able to access it for an unknowable reason and animals that don't _show_ some sort of magical attribute are classed as mundane. This also makes magical animal animagi possible but of no consequence to the story since if Harry does become an animagi[3], it will be for a specific plotline and not just rule of cool. Well, if he does, i may go for cool since if x(cat) will do but y(lion) is bitchin' then z(something cooler than a lion but hasn't been used in a fic before) may be his animal form.

[3] i've decided on his form for the story if it's plot necessary to learn the skill.


	7. THEN

Dressed, Harry and the rest of his dormmates left their room and found Hermione and Sophie waiting. "Which classes do you think we'll have first?" Hermione asked, excitement making her eyes shine.

Harry shrugged, wondering why Sophie had waited as well but shrugged it off. More friends was a good thing, even if he wasn't sure if she ranked as one yet.

Dean and Seamus drifted off a bit as their own conversation—read argument—on football's merits didn't interest the others.

Sitting down to breakfast on the first day, all students were there. As the Heads of Houses began passing out schedules, Dumbledore put down his mug and stood.

"Good morning to all your shiny little faces, eager to begin your education. Or not so eager nor ready but resigned to attend class." There was laughter and he smiled. "Your Prefects should have discussed some of the changes in the school but I shall expand while we eat."

Harry made a waffle face as he listened to him explain the new Year Common Rooms off the library were for cross-House interaction, how the vend devices were an experiment with helping to make sure students had access to extra supplies easier, a new menu system where breakfast would be as it always was and the lunch and dinner menus would be different. "The new meal system is quite interesting. When you sit down, instead of reaching for a spoon or fork to serve yourself from food in the center, an already plated meal will appear. As for what type of meal, you can select from the menu that is appearing now." A menu appeared at all place settings. "As you can see on the menu, you can select what type of meal plan you want. World cuisine where you get to try new dishes from around the world, United cuisine which is from our Islands only, or if you have a specific diet such as vegetarian or vegan or allergies, just write those in. Or it you dislike certain foods in the same area as allergies." Harry wrote in black olives, turkey pastrami, and turkey bacon then circled world cuisine.

He noticed Neville and Ron chose United while Hermione and Sophie also chose world.

"I wonder why the new food system?" Hermione asked.

"House-elves wanted more work, probably," Neville said.

Harry nodded. "Our house-elf always feel like there's too little to do. She bribes me with cookies to make messes." The boys laughed.

"What are house-elves?" Hermione asked.

"Domesticated kobolds," an older student said. "Very, very powerful creatures that live to serve. Literally. Non-domesticated ones live only a few years. Domesticated ones can live two centuries if they're bound to a house or family. They're rare though. Hard to entice new ones and they rarely breed if domesticated."

"Or an island," Harry said. "They're really nice. I'll summon mine later so you can meet her."

The Headmaster had continued on, now discussing how new brooms had been purchased for flying classes and an updated astronomy tower was being assembled.

Harry was reading his schedule when he heard someone call his name.

"Oh, Madam Pomfrey. Did he find you?"

"Yes. After classes, please report to the hospital wing. Mr. Longbottom, you're short a potion as well. Here."

"Oh."

Neville drank the potion and grimaced then thanked her.

"You missed a potion during your St. Mungo's appointment?" Seamus asked. "How?"

"They were out."

"Do we all have the same classes?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Slytherin and Gryffindor share classes," an older student said. "We're usually the most populous House while the snakes have the least students. The other two have usually the second most and second least and usually about the other half of the year's students.

"Core classes are Monday Wednesday Friday with flying classes and the like on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Then in third year, your electives are on those days." Harry realized he was a prefect when he saw the pin. "You should bring your books and stationery but leave your potion supplies in your dorm. The house-elves deliver them to just outside the room before class."

They finished eating then went to grab their books.

In their first class, Professor Flitwick called Harry's name and upon seeing Harry raise his hand, fell over backwards from his stack of books.

Harry and Dean were out of their seats and halfway to helping him when he popped back up. "I meant to do that!"

The students giggled as he laughed at himself.

Nearly all the muggleborns did significantly well enough that he commented on it halfway through the class.

Hermione raised her hand. "It's because we all bought P-WANDs," she said to the muggleborns' nods and Harry's immense feeling of satisfaction and a cha-ching noise he barely didn't vocalize.

"What?"

Hermione took hers out and demonstrated it.

"Ingenious! Who is selling these‽"

She pointed at Harry who sighed. "Not me. My godfather. Based on my grandfather's design and Mr. Ollivander's prototype. Next year they'll be on sale to everyone but Sirius met with the muggleborns during the summer and sold them prototypes."

"May I borrow this until dinner?"

Hermione nodded and took out her manual for it then handed it to him. Harry noticed hers was much thicker than normal due to sticky notes added to what looked like every page.

Ron looked angry until Harry leaned over and suggested he try a different grip on his wand. Four casts later, his feather jumped up.

After class as they were heading to their next class when "Harry Potter!"

He turned at the high pitched voice and saw a blonde boy heading towards them.

"I'm Draco Malfoy. Perhaps no one's told you but wizards of renown should have the right sort of friends," he said, sneering at the Gryffindors.

"Like the children of people so weak minded they can't fight off an Imperius? Or bigots who cloak their hate in traditions they don't even understand? Begone." Harry quoted his grandfather as he belittled the blonde.

Draco gaped at him as his cheeks turned an angry pink. "Wait until my father hears of this!"

Harry turned back, his wand in hand as he moved forward. The two fat boys moved forward to stand beside Malfoy while the Gryffindors arrayed themselves behind Harry unconsciously.

"You're so dumb, so unable to deal with your betters you run to daddy to fix what you break? Malfoy, we might be eleven years old but you act like a four year old." The Keeper was prompting Harry, helping him to show he was a better choice in the posturing of children.

Harry turned and was one step away when they heard "Mr. Malfoy!"

They all turned to see one of the new staff, Professor Ambergris glaring at them and Malfoy aiming his wand at Harry's back. "Fifteen points for aiming a wand at another student in the halls! Slytherins, stay here. Gryffindors, go on to your next class!"

"It's the same class," a Slytherin protested to another lost point.

In Transfiguration, the Gryffindors all sat in the last three rows of seats so when the Slytherins arrived—late and bearing a note from the professor—they had to sit in front of the Gryffindors. The nine Slytherins had to sit with the wands of Gryffindors at their backs.

Reading the note, Professor McGonagall glared at the students. "One detention Mr. Malfoy, with Mr. Filch. Let us see if we cannot break you of bad habits!"

"Potter had his wand out too!" Malfoy protested.

"His wand was aimed at the floor!" Ron protested.

"One point from Slytherin and one point from Gryffindor. Students raise their hands in my class." Ron flushed.

"Wands out in the halls is not against the rules," she finished. "Doing magic or aiming your wand at another student is."

The class ended up being a near-clone of Charms. While no one completed a flawless transfiguration of straw to string, the ones who were closest were the muggleborns and Dean ended up demonstrating his P-WAND.

~•~

Ron sighed as he sat down at lunch. "How much are those wands?"

"Eh, I'll send you one. Your brothers were really good teachers, seems only fair. But they'll be a galleon a year. The prototypes have all seven years of spells and cheaper workshops in the summer for five galleons. The production models will be two sickles a workshop and only have one year's worth of spells. And be customizable. We'll be doing models for adults too, I think. Like auror and other job specific models."

"Why?" Dean asked.

"I gotta rebuild the Potter finances," Harry said. "We're not broke or anything but not doing great."

With class over, they headed up to History of Magic class. Harry had debated bringing a pillow after Sirius's description of the class but decided that he must have been exagerrating.

It turned out Sirius had not been and Harry spent the whole class updating his armour plans.

He leaned over to Dean and whispered, "Would you guys mind if I put up some posters?"

Dean leaned over to ask Seamus and Neville while Harry asked Ron.

* * *

Harry walked into the Hospital Wing and sat down on the little couch, looking at his Potions book. Snape had been extremely unpleasant. He was glad he only had him for a year since the Darklings were aching to eviscerate him.

The door of her office opened and Professor Dumbledore exited, followed by her. "Ahh, Mr. Potter, how was your first day? Are you feeling unwell?"

"A check-up, Albus."

"It was good, sir. All the students who had our P-WANDs did well."

"Yes, during lunch Professor Flitwick and I discussed making them required."

Harry's eyes widened as a steady profit of fifty or more galleons a year with other wanded nations looking at Hogwarts requiring them would make them debate the same flitted through his head.

"How goes other issues?" the Headmaster asked.

"We're still looking for a place for the thing."

"Last night I had an idea about that. I will discuss it with your godfather tonight."

When he was gone, Madam Pomfrey told him to get up on the nearest bed then she waved her wand, summoning a privacy screen.

He pulled up his shirt—he had changed into BDU trousers and a tee shirt then pulled on overrobes, hating the dress style of robes but liking the trench coat style—revealing a scar. "It looks kinda like Cardiff, right?" Harry asked.

She smiled at that. "Yes. How are you eating?"

"I finish my plates and occasionally eat dessert. I don't mind the scar."

"Very well, then a quick check of your alimentary system then you may rejoin your friends. Lie back."

He watched the magical image of his guts rise up then she zoomed in on the stomach so she could look it over inch by inch.

"Can this spell be recreated by runic arrays?"

"Yes. At St. Mungo's they use them to save time. Are you thinking about becoming a healer?"

"Thinking about using them in another project."

"Ah. Well then, off you go. See me before you leave for Christmas for another checkup."

"Yes, ma'am. Where's Gramps?"

"Reading. Would you like to speak to him?"

"No, I'll talk to him later."

He left the hospital wing and headed back to the dorm.

~•~

Before dinner, Harry and his dormmates were deciding the best spots to put up his guitar, Iron Man, Holyhead Harpies, runebreaker, and dragon morphology posters.

"What's all that?" Neville asked, gesturing at the runebreaker poster while Dean admired the Iron Man poster and Seamus leered at the players. Ron had gone down early.

"My family has always been independent curse-breakers and dragon-breeders." Neville nodded. "So both of those posters are in the fields," he said as he put the Morphology poster up on the end of his bed so he could see it from his desk but it wasn't visible from anywhere else. "Ron's older brothers were my tutors last year. They made the posters to help me study."

The guitar went on the wall next to his bed with some of the tamer photos from the meeting around it.

He stuck the family photos to his headboard then looked at his pocketwatch. "Dinner time."

In the Great Hall, he sat down across from and at an angle to Hermione and next to Sophie. His plate immediately appeared, a rhombus with seven types of sushi.

"Excellent," he said as Ron and Neville looked perturbed.

"But it's raw!" Ron said as Harry picked up a california roll with his chopsticks, though rather clumsily. Sirius had become a big fan of sushi while they were in Australia.

"It's supposed to be," Hermione said. "It's from Japan."

"Why?" Neville asked.

"Well all these types are actually cooked," Harry said, "except that one. I think it's Toro, the really expensive kind of tuna. And I don't know why they serve it raw but it's really good."

"I hope I get sushi soon," Hermione said. "But this stew is amazing. I think it's this Ethiopian stew I read about."

Sophie nodded. She had gotten the same meal as Hermione.

"We could go ask the elves," Harry said as the Weasley twins leaned over Ron's shoulders.

"Hey, Ron. Sorry we didn't say but we're really proud of you for getting into Gryffindor."

"And send mum a letter about it before she sends a howler! You can add yours to ours if you finish it soon."

The first nodded and stole a slice of garlic toast from the small plate that came with Ron's spaghetti bolognese.

"Is that that sushi stuff?" one asked and Harry nodded.

"Lee raves about it. Looks pretty good too."

"You guys want to try it?"

They nodded and picked up Harry's other California roll then each tried half. "That is good," they said as Ron looked at them in shock.

The twins left when Lee walked over and Harry opened his notebook, adding _runic array diagnostic system_ under the armour column.

* * *

Harry finished part of his letter then looked around the common room until he saw a prefect. "Can you make copies of this? I need two more."

"Sure. The spell is Gemino."

He demonstrated the shape a few times then actually cast the spell twice, took a self-inking quill out and uncapped it then etched two silver runes on the two sheets. "This rune will keep them from degrading."

"Thanks!" Harry said then went back to finish writing his letters.

The first paragraph was just that he had been placed in Gryffindor.

He started Licorice's letter first.

 _The first day of classes was pretty fun. All the students who used a P-WAND to practice did really well compared to those who didn't so make sure you practice with yours, okay?_

 _There are a lot of new professors and more are coming next year, they say._

 _Planning on making more of that salty licorice soon? I have only one piece left from my birthday batch._

He wrote a few more things then signed and folded it. He put her name on it then flipped it back over and placed a pair of red and gold ribbons over the flap and dripped violet wax on it then pressed his Potter and Black rings into it.

His letter to Tonks asked about how her first day of training went and if she planned to spend Christmas in Australia with them then he did the same, also using the TONX ring on the black wax he used for her letter.

His letter to Sirius wasn't much longer except he added that he needed a half dozen or so P-WANDS to sell to students who wanted one.

With his letters done and Sirius's sealed with scarlet wax—Harry made a note to buy regular wax instead of charmed wax, the random colors were annoying—and headed down to send his letter.

As soon as he got close to the owlery, Hedwig flew right towards him.

"Hey, this letter goes to Sirius. I'll send these others with school owls."

She glared him into submission and he took a step back. "Fine, you can take 'em all!"

He got her harness on—a silver torc with leather strips that made up a vest design with a pouch connected—then he flung her up into the air.

"She keeps you in your place," an older girl with Ravenclaw tartan ribbons in her hair. "I'm Sarah Millicant. Can I get your autograph for my little sister? Her name's Greer."

"Oh, uhh, sure?"

She opened her stationery set and took out a picture of him at the station for the Hogwart's Express the day before she had clipped from that morning's Daily Prophet. He signed it and she thanked him then headed off. "This is going to be the best christmas gift ever."

Harry shook his head then headed down the tower and back into the school.

In the common room, he smiled as he watched Ron and Neville teach Hermione and Sophie exploding snap.

He said goodnight and headed up to bed.

As soon as he closed his curtains, the Keeper and two other Darklings appeared at his beckoning.

"You're to reco—how do I say it?"

"Re-con-noi-ter," the Keeper replied.

"Yes, that, the school for recreating the map. From three in the morning until four. The Headmaster said that's the best time. He also wants you to report any areas that need repair."

The two Darklings nodded, gave a Roman salute, then jumped up into the shadowy area of the canopy on his bed.

* * *

Harry stood with the girls bracketing him and Ron and Neville outside them and the rest of Gryffindor surrounding them in an unconscious c shape.

Neville was fiddling with the remembrall he had received that morning as they waited, trying to remember what he had forgotten. Harry had been a little surprised at breakfast it didn't magically tell him what he had forgotten but the twins had explained it was there to improve one's memory, not be the memory.

Hermione had suggested keeping a list of things he needed to do, offering to help him make the list and Neville accepted the idea.

The twins had asked if that didn't negate the purpose of the remembrall. Hermione had replied that repetition builds memory better than just trying to remember.

Harry shook it off as Madam Hooch came out, carrying two bundles of brooms. "Sadly, we have to use the old brooms one last year before our new ones arrive. Nimbus has elected to build new brooms for the school expressly for this class at a great discount. So," she said, putting them down, one bundle on the Slytherin side and the other on the Gryffindor side, "collect a broom, place it on the grass beside you on your wand side, and wait."

She walked along, giving some encouragement to those who looked nervous before moving to the side.

"You will first tell the broom to rise to your optimum height, you will wait until I tell you to then you will mount, then once more wait."

"Up," Harry said.

His broom instantly rose.

He noticed Sophie's did as well while Hermione's shuddered. Neville's did nothing while Ron's rose a little bit then fell back.

They kept trying until finally Ron's and Hermione's rose. "You have to want it, I think," Sophie said softly to Neville.

Eventually, all students had raised their brooms and their instructor began looking at their grip, changing how they held them for most save Harry—who had dreams of other Wielders flying to fall back on, Ron who had older brothers who taught him, a few purebloods, and one halfblood. Harry found it especially amusing to see Draco get told off for an improper grip after all his bragging about flying.

Neville, nervous as always, somehow accidentally took off. Harry presumed it was due to the broom more than thoughtlessness, though.

Less than a second later he had fallen and Harry heard the crack of a forearm breaking. He had found after all the dreams of Wielders _encouraging_ cooperation and being injured themselves, he could reliably identify broken bones by the sound of the break.

Hooch told them to stay where they were as she escorted him to the Hospital Wing.

Moments later, Draco saw the remembrall on the ground. "Look at what that baby left behind!"

Lavender told him to leave Neville alone and he mocked her for it as he scooped it up.

"Give me the remembrall," Harry said, heat in his voice.

"No, I think I'll leave it where he can find it." Draco took off on the broom.

Harry followed him into the air, intense feelings of the perfectness of flight threatening to overwhelm his desire to get the orb of his friend back.

Draco turned and saw Harry bearing down on him at speed.

Harry pulled up and held out his hand. "Now, Malfoy."

Malfoy sneered and threw the item at the castle.

Harry flew after it, catching it with one hand as his left foot pushed off the castle reorienting him towards the other students, just under a window he didn't notice Professor McGonagall standing at.

As he landed to claps of the Gryffindors, they heard "Mr. Potter!"

"Bugger!" Harry grunted.

~•~

Harry sat down for his detention with Professor McGonagall. She handed him a roll of parchment and a quill. "Write what I dictate. Head it to your godfather."

Harry nodded nervously.

 _Dear Sirius,_

He looked up, waiting.

"Today I was selected as Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team."

He stared at her in shock and she smiled, looking like a cat that ate a very hard to catch bird. "Well?"

Harry started writing.

~•~

The next day at breakfast, Harry received a large tube and a red letter. "Oh, no!" Ron said. "A howler!"

"What's a howler?" Hermione asked.

"It yells at you," Neville said as Harry hesitantly opened it.

 ** _"HELL YEAH!"_** Shook the whole Great Hall then the letter exploded into masses of fireworks, parts of them spelling out GO GRYFFINDOR! and POTTER 7!

"I'm older than my godfather," Harry muttered to Sophie and Hermione's great amusement.

"Well, possibly more mature," Hermione corrected.

The information of Harry being on the team was disseminated by the rest of the team as Harry and Ron peeked at his new broom in its carrying case.

* * *

The first month of school had been much like muggle school, Harry decided, only instead of everyone avoiding him due to Dudley, now everyone wanted to at least speak with him once save Malfoy, his bookends, and a few other Slytherins. Harry was polite and didn't rebuff the Death Eater spawns among them but didn't seek any of them out, allowing Ron to attempt to glare Slytherins away after a short while.

At breakfast on the first Sunday in October, Harry affixed a notice to the Gryffindor bulletin board while prefects in other houses did the same.

As soon as he stepped away and headed to the door, most students moved over to see what it said.

 _LAST 7 PROTOTYPE P-WANDS!_

 _Want a chance at a P-WAND? A raffle ticket for a low numbered prototype is only 1 galleon, a_ ** _significant_** _savings!_

 _To purchase a ticket, see Professor Flitwick or Professor Green. Drawing will be held after the winter leaving feast!_

Hermione and Sophie and the other Muggleborns were immediately setup upon and bombarded with questions about the wands.

When Harry sat down for dinner next to Ron, he asked, "What does low numbered mean?"

"Ah, each one has a serial number on it just below the crystal."

Ron took his out and looked. "Oh. Number ten. Out of how many?"

"I think seventy-eight or seventy-nine prototypes were made."

"What number is yours?"

Harry shrugged. "It's in the dorm, I'll look later. But I don't think it has one."

"How many tickets can a person buy?" asked a Hufflepuff who walked over to them.

"As many as you want but if you win one, your other tickets won't get you a second," Harry said. "And if you spend more than seven galleons, you've kinda ripped yourself off 'cuz this summer we'll have them on sale and you can pimp them out with House colors or other looks."

The boy looked confused by the last but but nodded and went to spread the information while those closest to them moved down to pass on the news.

Hermione and Sophie joined them and Ron asked, "What numbers are yours?"

"Six," Sophie said.

"Mine is twelve."

* * *

The small group—Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sophie, and Neville—was still seated in the First Year Common Room, having finished a study group on Charms and Transfiguration. Hermione was editing Neville's spelling while Sophie and Ron played chess. Harry was just relaxing, wondering if the artificers Sirius had told him and Tonks about could really make a Walkman—or better, his boombox—work in Hogwarts. Their work was technically illegal in Britain due to the misuse of muggle artifacts laws but at the same time, Harry had a writ from the International Confederation of Magicals that allowed them to circumvent those laws. But not for selfish uses.

 _But testing on a small scale,_ he thought to himsel _f. Would that be violating?_

He opened his ideas notebook and wrote it down. Hogwarts was at three ley lines and had over a millenia of magic users in it. If it worked here, it would work anywhere.

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"It's my ideas for things to do after school. Okay, I talked to Sirius last night and he suggested I start a project. Something cool, unique, maybe something that I can market or at least use. Want to make it a group project?"

The girls and Neville nodded, Hermione quite eagerly while Ron nodded, unsure.

"It's Monday so on Friday after class let's come back and we can discuss our ideas."

~•~

Friday after class found the group sitting at the same table, waiting on Hermione and Neville. They arrived a few minutes later than planned.

"I forgot my books in the Greenhouse."

Harry nodded, taking his notebook out and uncapping his quill. "Any ideas?"

"A CD player that works here?" Sophie suggested.

"That would break the law," Hermione said.

"Not exactly," Harry said, "if we could create a device that could read CDs magically. But that would be really hard."

"A CD holds music on it," Hermione explained for the purebloods. "Like records but they hold an hour of music instead of twenty minutes per side and are much smaller."

Hermione was flipping through a book, grumbling. "None of the books in this school have indexes or adequate appendices."

"That's an idea," Harry breathed, having thought the same thing.

"What do you mean?" Neville asked.

"What are the books with everything in them but short?"

"Dictionaries?" Sophie asked. "Or encyclopedias," Hermione added.

Harry nodded. "Encyclopedias. That's the one. It's not something for us but…," he trailed off as he wrote.

They waited, Hermione going back to what she had been looking for while Sophie went back to writing lyrics and Ron took out his chocolate frog cards and had Neville quiz him on the information on the back.

"Okay, done," Harry said. "Sorry but the idea was too good. We get a bunch of experts together and they take every book in every field, get it down to the easiest to understand writing, then publish a different book for every field of magic."

"Encyclopedia Of Magic?" Hermione suggested. "Encyclopedia Magicka," Sophie suggest at the same time.

"I wrote down Encyclopedia Arcane. Or arcana? My handwriting is horrible," he groaned. "Anyway, the name can wait. I'll ask Sirius and Remus what they think of it.

"Any other ideas?" Harry asked as he put bits of colored spellotape on those pages so he could quickly find them.

"We were talking about my brother's auror bag," Ron said, gesturing at Neville. "His dad had one but he can't use it because it's locked only to him. What if we made our own?"

Harry breathed in, his cheeks pink, excited. "Yes!" His grandfather had explained them before and making one for himself was on his list.

"Auror bag?" Sophie asked.

"They're like regular satchels but they have sorting charms, multiple flaps, undetectable expansion charms, switching charms, changing charms, they're just super useful," Neville said.

"What's an auror?" she asked.

"The police," Harry said, writing in his book. "But like the gun carrying ones, not a bobby. My dad was one with my godfather and Neville's dad. His journal said that your dad was very good."

Neville nodded, looking at Harry a little surprised. "C-could I see it?"

"Yeah. I'll ask Sirius to make a copy for you, he mentions your mum and dad a few times. Some of the stuff in it is about my mum, though, so I'll leave that out. He wrote _poetry_ about my mum."

Sophie and Hermione exploded into giggles at Harry's tone of shock.

"I'll write Bill a letter and see if he can tell us what spells are on them," Ron said.

"Tell him I say hi."

Ron nodded as he started writing.

~•~

A week later, Harry got packages. Inside the largest box was a hopper, hundreds of cards, markers, and stacks and stacks of cards. Instead of saying Bingo, they had MAGIC across the top and used runes instead of numbers. Harry grinned.

The second box had three copies of Battlewizards for the Common Room and a note saying more copies had been sent to the school and professors to go in the other common rooms. He saw one big change had been made. Instead of two colors of pegs, Sirius wrote they changed color to signify hits magically. Setting those aside, he opened the last box. A high end Battlewizards set for himself with another change. One side was specifically for him while the other half of the game was set to be usable by anyone. The high end models were like chess sets with a wizard—or in Harry's case, a witch that looked like a cheerleader and bounced around like one with a Californian accent—designed to be used by one person specifically and a rename to the game: Battlemages. He picked up the other cases and saw parquet insets that said BATTLEMAGES in contrasting wood to the dark purple-black wood used for the case.

He placed it in his wardrobe and left the three for the dorm out for the house-elves to place downstairs then flicked his wardrobe to desk mode and sat down to write. Licorice had a number of questions about Hogwarts he had to answer before she released her hostage of a large bag of her candies.

"Bill wrote!" Ron said excitedly as he burst into the room. "And it's good news!"

Harry turned in his seat. "Oh?"

"Lemme go get the girls," Neville said from behind him.

After a little bit, they heard a siren sound and rushed out to see what it was. Neville was lying at the bottom of the girls' stairs that were now a slide.

As Dean was helping him up, Professors McGonagall and Green arrived. "What happened?"

"Neville tried to go up the stairs," a third year girl said then giggled. More girls also giggled.

"I was trying to tell Sophie and Hermione that we're ready to discuss our project."

"Boys aren't allowed up the stairs," she said, touching her wand to the rail, causing the slide to turn back into stairs. "Next time I suggest asking a girl to pass a message." She chuckled. "Your father attempted the same but for wholly different reasons.

"Carry on children."

"What?" Sophie asked when the professors were gone.

Harry and the boys led the girls up to their room only to find a table had appeared that was big enough for them all with high backed chairs.

"Thank you," Harry said just in case. A house-elf must have been nearby when they originally discussed a meeting.

Sitting down, Ron read his letter aloud.

 _"'I had a spare bit of time and began studying my bag.'"_

Then he remembered the larger words and passed it to Hermione.

 _"'In commercial products, a certain type of spell is used called a spellmaster hex. When used, it creates a type of matrix in the item where a person can study an item and learn if there are any harmful spells, essentially disassembling something magically without harming it but won't remember the spells used later nor can they write them down. Your friend Harry has a bit of training in this but he's not ready to disassemble artifacts yet._

 _"'Interestingly, the bag I own doesn't have this spell. Nor does about a third of the bags of other cursebreakers I work with. Therefore, here is a list of every charm, hex, jinx, runic array, and and a couple curses used to make the bag as well as the potions and products used.'_

 _"'If you're going to try to make a product for sale, remember to use the spellmaster incantation too. Harry knows that spell already.'"_

She looked at the next three pages. "There's just a personal message on the last page to you Harry."

She passed it over and Harry looked at it then smiled. It was a reminder that Harry still owed Bill a piece of Licorice's licorice.

"Okay, let's break down the list and we can all research the spells—" he had only included the names, not the actual incantations "—and parts and then figure out how to make a prototype," Harry said.

Hermione nodded. "Sophie and I will do the spell research. Neville, the plants parts?" He nodded. "Ron, the fabric research?"

"Sure. And I could look up the runes too." He had not realized how well he knew them until Neville reminded him that he had been studying them on chocolate frog cards for years. Underneath each bio was a rune from the three most common alphabets and its name and common and uncommon uses.

"If you're doing the runes, how about you do the fabrics, Harry?"

He nodded. "Perfect. We can meet again on the first of November." Two weeks. "Should be enough time to learn a bit.

"Now I gotta go, Professor Dumbledore wanted to talk to me."

Hermione passed out the list of things each needed to learn as Harry left the room.

"Why did Dumbledore want him?" Sophie asked as Dean walked into the room.

"The Headmaster's helping his godfather buy something," Ron replied.

In the Headmaster's office, Harry sat and waited.

"Apologies," the Headmaster said as he entered the office. "There was an incident in the Forbidden Forest. Tomorrow Sirius wished to know if you wanted to visit the potential site for your businesses?"

"Can I?"

"Yes."

"I'll just shadowstep home then. Oh, we're all working on a project. Where should I look up what fabrics to use in magic stuff?"

"For robes?"

"For an auror satchel. Bill checked his and whoever made it didn't use the spellmaster hex so we have all the spells to use!"

"Ah, in the housekeeping section in the library. And then the books on pelt animals. Is this a field you're interested in?"

"No. At least I don't think so. But as a project to just make our own? Fun."

He nodded. "I've always found self-directed goals taught me so much more than school ever did. That doesn't mean to stop paying attention in class, though. I myself set three goals a year and accomplished fifteen of them before I finished school."

Harry grinned. "What time should I go tomorrow?"

"After breakfast."

~•~

Harry attempted to shadowstep into his room and saw a flash of blinding light before being thrown roughly back into the small office his grandfather was using.

"Windows open?" Charlus asked.

"There was a bright light."

"Windows open," he confirmed. "Call for Sinister to close the curtains in your room."

"Sinister, Service!"

They waited for a few minutes then she appeared. "Master Harry is not to be calling Sinister while at school!" she reminded him sharply as she continued stirring a bowl of something.

"The curtains in my room are open. It needs to be dark in my room."

"Oh! Sinister was airing out Master Harry's room!" She apparated away.

When Harry appeared this time, the only light was from the candles that sputtered to life at his presence.

"Sirius?" he called out as he left his room.

"Sitting room," he heard called back.

He found Sirius reading the Prophet and Remus reading the Guardian as soft music played.

"Are we going now?"

"As soon as the car arrives," Remus said. "We hired Mr. Wallace. His disability seems of no issue to us."

"Okay," Harry said and flopped down on his favorite seat, a huge white shaggy marshmallow beanbag. It was horribly out of place in the sitting room Andromeda had furnished with antiques that would have cost Sirius obscene amounts of money if they had not been items already owned by Sirius's family.

Sirius put down the Prophet. "How are classes?"

"Fun. We decided on a project. Auror satchels."

"Harry Potter branded satchels would sell incredibly well," Remus said, letting the paper droop so he could look at Harry.

Harry nodded. "Sophie and Hermione are looking up the spells, Ron's going to look at the runes, Neville's doing the plant stuff, and I have to research the cloth and leather."

"And how is your… more esoteric training going?" Remus asked.

"Eso-what?"

"Advanced, specialized, only understood by a few people. Specifically your Wielding," Sirius said.

"Oh! Mostly dreams still, practicing getting the spells right with my P-WAND. I've been trying to visualize the perfect form for my Darklings but they're still all blobby."

"Perhaps armouring them?" Remus suggested.

"Oh," Harry thought. A horde of foot tall Iron Men and War Machines greatly intrigued him. And once he understood the workings of guns, they would as well.

His thoughts were disrupted by the knock at the door then Sinister announcing Wallace into the room. Harry scribbled the armour idea in his notebook then scrambled after the adults.

~•~

Harry had expected them to purchase an old warehouse or a few floors in a high-rise somewhere. This was a castle, bigger than Hogwarts.

The old woman waiting for them shook Sirius's and Remus's hands and nodded at Harry, recognition blooming in her eyes.

"Dumbledore Castle is—"

"Professor Dumbledore has a castle‽" Harry exclaimed.

She laughed. "It's called Dumbledore Castle because of the stone it's clad with. Black stone with yellow veins. Dumbledore is another word for bumblebee."

"Oh," Harry said, a little disappointed. "Malfoy always talks about manors and I know the Bones have an old Manor in Wales and the Potters had three places at one time. I thought maybe all old families did."

"The Blacks used to have a nice defensible chateau but mother bullied father into selling it to help fund You-Know-Who. Now we just have the London place for when the Wizengamot was in session. Dumbledore possibly has or had a large home. I should probably drop by Grimmauld Place and evaluate for selling," Sirius mused aloud to the woman perking up. "Anyway, condition of the castle?"

"You'll need to get the dwarves in to shore up the foundation and hire the goblins to redo the charms and hexes protecting the place and a dozen or so holes in the roof need repaired. And new cladding in a lot of spots. It's why it's selling for so little. Only thirty thousand. It's safe enough to go in but I'd suggest bubblehead charms in case of mold and the like. And not to let Mr. Potter explore on his own.

"And if you do elect to sell your place, I have the lowest commissions in England!"

"I'll owl you with our offer if we decide to go ahead." Sirius had no plan to spend 30,000 galleons on a building needing as much work as this castle did. The craftwork would cost another 40,000 easily.

Once she was gone, Sirus waved his wand to check the door and nodded. Remus opened it and Harry summoned an obscene amount of Darklings. "A full map of the place."

They gave Roman salutes then rushed off as the Keeper began drawing.

"Your cartography skills are incredible," Remus said, watching him work.

"The fourth Wielder taught the Scribe." His Lightling counterpart. "He was more of an explorer than a curse-breaker, letting others explore the ruins he found."

After twenty minutes, they set out to look the place over.

"I like this room," Harry said. The walls, even rotting as they were, revealed it once had incredibly detailed carvings depicting stories of magical events. "If they can be properly restored, this would be a great library."

"Speaking of libraries. The Encyclopedia Arcana idea?" Remus said. "It is brilliant. We spoke with various Master level wizards and they want to partake."

"It was mostly Hermione's idea," Harry said. She had added a lot of ideas to his initial idea.

"This castle, especially if we have various other things like an Encyclopedia being written, well it's a perfect cover for my intelligence network," Sirius said.

j"The castle is so massive you could hide every magical only settlement in the world inside it," Wallace said, surprising them all. "Sorry, but you wanted me to remind you when it's lunchtime."

Harry looked over to the corridor the Keeper had been working in but from where he stood, he couldn't see him.

"Ah, right. Let's see what Sinister packed for lunch," Remus said.

How big is the castle exactly?" Harry asked as he picked up a piece of fried chicken and looked at the castle from where they sat on a safe section of the outer wall, nearly two hundred feet up.

"Each of the seven sides is nearly twenty four hundred feet long," Sirius said, reading from the parchment. "The main tower is two hundred feet taller than the building—it's almost twelve hundred feet—with the three next being twenty feet shorter but their spires are the same height as the main tower. The seven residential towers at the corners of the building are fifty feet taller. Those will make great research offices, I think. The main tower would be our offices and administration," he suggested. "The three towers could be the intelligence offices while the first floor and the second of the castle is research for the encyclopedia."

"How much is the refurb gonna cost?" Harry asked.

"Don't worry," Sirius said.

Harry pulled out his notebook, making notes.

Done with that, Harry asked, "Why is her cold fried chicken better than the school's hot fried chicken?"

* * *

The night came that Harry had been dreading for some time.

He knelt in a hendecagon, drawn with the blood of a freshly killed dragonling—the runt of the clutch, its magical power more concentrated. Inside the hendecagon, a septacle, made of freshly made charcoal, Harry's own blood, and seven desanctified salts was painted around a nearly foot thick three by five meter pelt of giant skin.

Placed upon that were more items, clustered in groups of five.

Harry picked up a brush loaded with dried bicorn blood, blackened powdered silver, and griffin albumen and began drawing upon his naked body runic symbols he had practiced nearly every night since school had begun.

The Keeper nodded as Harry painted with sure strokes.

The last two symbols were drawn on Harry's eyelids carefully—all three ingredients were unpleasant in the eye, and his armour began to form, undulating and disappearing as it attempted to cover the runes but failed.

Harry whimpered in pain as the Darkness fought against the controlling runes, attempting to break free of its mortal master.

His eyes began to glow a chilling purple and a scent of lavender and sulfur filled the air as the power strained, sending him to his knees in pain.

Nascent potential power began flowing differently, now directed from his mind to his arms.

The Dark Arms themselves formed, corporeal manifestations of the Darkness, undulating skeletal snake forms headed by the skull of a deformed looking deep sea creature, snapping at each other then turning their baleful glare on the Wielder.

Even in his great pain, Harry's mind pushed him to force his will on the arms, dissipating them and shoving the power into the pelt and the items upon it.

The pelt began to come apart like croissant dough as it was sliced into 20x16 inch sheets of parchment.

Unicorn sinew and goblin fang came together and began to sew the parchment together as the hair flashed away in blinding white flames while gold foil sealed the parchment after the vampire blood dyed the parchment black.

The other ingredients began to mold themselves around the leaves of giant parchment, becoming foils, dyes, and the leather binding upon a pair of stones laminated by centaur glue.

A feather from a dire owlbear, a firesac from a veela, liquified gold, and a prepubescent vampire's fang compacted together into a black and gold quill, its ink cavity eterna-filled with the blood of fae.

Laying before a nearly unconscious kneeling Harry lay his Book of Shadow, literally. Until it was placed upon the shelf of the previous Wielder's Books of Shadow, it was little more than a thick rectangle of heavy smoke.

A loud crack resounded and Harry collapsed in a dead faint, the stone around him cracking in a spider's web.

The door slammed open and Sirius, the headmaster, and Charlus rushed in.

"Was that supposed to happen?"

"Sirius, get him to the hospital wing. He'll need some skelegro and some muscle rebuilder," Charlus ordered as Albus stepped aside to let the Keeper retrieve the tome.


	8. HATE

When Harry disappeared on the night before Halloween, none of his group of friends were surprised. Because of his family's magicks, he had a room to practice in—wth Sirius, they believed—and occasionally had to deal with legal stuff that Sirius couldn't legally just sign for him.

And while Sirius did occasionally observe via the mirror, for the most part, when Harry practiced in the old armory wing of Hogwarts, he was alone save for Darklings and occasionally Charlus.

So when Daria, a Hufflepuff, came over and asked, "What happened to Harry?" breathlessly, they were just as surprised as anyone else to hear he was in the hospital wing and not away from the school.

Even Ron forgot about food as they left lunch to go to the Hospital Wing.

They found Harry asleep with Sirius sitting next to him, dozing.

They all looked to Hermione to be their spokesperson.

She worked up the courage and slowly approached Sirius.

His eye snapped open as she approached and she jumped in fright at the absolute lack of movement in the rest of his body.

"Is-is Harry alright?" she worked up the courage to ask.

"Yeah, he just took a hard hit while training. It was expected. He might be back in classes tomorrow. He will be at dinner though."

He heard Ron's stomach growl at the mention of food and raised an eyebrow as Hermione huffed in annoyance.

"Go to lunch," he told them. "He should be awake by the end of class."

They headed back down and as soon as they entered the Great Hall, students from all the houses surrounded them. Hermione said, "It sounded like he got hurt practicing some advanced magic."

On the way to dinner that evening, Sophie was "reliably" informed by a third year Ravenclaw who said she had seen it all that Harry, wielding a flaming sword, had been fighting two vampires and a hobgoblin, protecting a half-dead Professor Dumbledore.

And that was one of the more reasonable stories the students were bandying about Harry's injuries.

When he appeared at dinner that night, nearly the entirety of the school stood and applauded him. He stopped and stared, wondering what was going on. Deciding to ignore it until he had food in him, he walked to Gryffindor table.

"What the hell are they doing?" he asked when he sat down in between Hermione and Sophie.

"We heard you defeated a dragon, saved a princess, married her, had two kids in a time compression chamber, and they're starting at Hogwarts next year," one of the Weasley twins said.

"Well, that's what we've been telling everyone, actually."

"A Hufflepuff said you drank Hagrid under the table and it killed him and all it did was make you a little sick. Then he fell on you," Sterling said breathlessly.

Harry looked up at the staff table. Hagrid and Professor Green were laughing at something. Harry looked back at Sterling and asked, "Are you insane‽ Hagrid's right there!"

"That's just a golem so the other students aren't frightened," Figgis stated matter-of-factly.

Harry's head hit the table hard enough there was blood.

~•~

Sirius patted Harry's shoulder as he related what had happened at dinner.

"It's not surprising. This is a closed community. Which means gossip is faster than a lumos. And no one really believes all of that, it's just fun to try to top everyone else's story.

"Tell them you were dehydrated from the wedding night to the princess one time then when someone else asks, say something else. Show them you can laugh at yourself."

Harry nodded then turned as the Headmaster reentered the office.

"Are we ready?" he asked.

The Keeper appeared. "Once the Master sets foot on the Dimholdt Road, he will he in a transitory state between here and the Redoubt. He must travel this alone save for us and his armor."

"Where is the redoubt?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry's grandfather floated in. "Sorry, it's Nick's deathday, we were celebrating a bit. Lost track of time. Are you ready, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "You explained the Redoubt before but I still don't think I understand."

"Okay. This is all supposition of course but two hundred years ago, my grandfather was experimenting with time-turners and ritual magic when he was attacked. A significant confluence of events sent him massively backwards in time.

"Now as we all know—well, not know but assume due to prevalent evidence—once we know something had happened, we cannot make it unhappen. I could not use a time-turner to save my wives' lives because I saw their deaths and experienced them." Harry nodded. He understood that, mostly due to the comic books he had been reading. Doctor Strange had been unable to save someone when he was back in time for the same reason.

"But grandfather was so far back in time that he saw creatures he had never seen before. And like the hunter and explorer he was, he started killing, capturing, studying, and cataloguing, trusting in magic to see him through his time-issues."

The adults nodded as Harry sat enrapt.

"He captured at least sixty of each species and as many eggs as he could as he studied what had happened magically, keeping them in a magical stasis in a dangerously big compartment in his satchel. And then one day he was flung about time again. There were more creatures, different than those he had captured. So once again, he did the same thing.

"This happened five more times sending him backwards and forwards, we believe, until he was standing on a rise one day, bemoaning the lack of his favorite pipe tobacco when he saw it. A massive rock falling from the sky, miles across. Your great-great-grandfather had used much the same tactic before in battles to kill vampire nests so he did the first thing that came to mind. By tapping into the nearest ley lines, he created a massive protego that caused the asteroid to be deflected back to the heavens.

"This nearly killed him for he had created a schism—or rupture or something—in time. That asteroid was supposed to hit and kill off the dinosaurs, causing the rise of mammals. At least, that's muggle science's thoughts.

"The earth's magic—due to the tapped ley lines, his magic, and the Darkness swirled about, tearing the world he stood on, flinging him even farther back in time, rocking the axes of the universe itself we believe. For now there were two of our worlds. But the Darklings could walk on the earth he stood on. And he could once again feel his son's ring connected to his house symbol.

"The Lightlings were there as well.

"So he sent his Darklings to be studying where they were, summoning more and larger than he had before. Darklings took wing and flew in the sun, roamed the continent as massive forty foot tall beasts, climbed mountains as thirty foot giants, explored the ocean as thousand foot sea serpents."

"Did you say singular continent and sea?" Albus said.

"Yes. One of each. The muggles called it Vaalbara. We call it why the Potters are wealthy. Only we have access to a whole world's mineral wealth.

"The Lightlings and Darklings began seeding the planet with flora and fauna of the animals they had then and now."

Harry blinked. "Dinosaurs? Really?" he breathed.

Charlus nodded. "But not around the redoubt. There are three islands in the middle of the C, kind of like the Turkish Flag."

The Headmaster created an illusion of the flag and Harry nodded.

"Once there, you will feel crippling depression, an urge to turn back. Fight this! You are Harry Potter, eleventh Wielder! You are power! You own the world you stand on, not the other way 'round. The Darklings will protect you." Harry nodded.

"Perhaps whistling a happy tune?" Dumbledore suggested. "Music is a very powerful weapon in a mage's hands, metaphorically."

"Huh, I never thought of that," Charlus said. "Dead and still learning. Who knew?"

Harry laughed at that.

Dumbledore held out a muggle device and Harry recognized it as a Bop-It. Dudley had had one for a week, throwing it away after Piers beat him the first time they played.

* * *

Harry accepted the hug from Sirius and admonition to be careful as Albus built a bonfire and conjured up easy chairs, including a ghostly one for Charlus.

He turned and looked at the cave. They were on a deserted beach, looking at Fingal's Cave, the one place where the rift between the world he stood on and the world he planned to visit were malleable enough to nearly allow physical steps.

Breathing in, Harry's armour formed around his body, his mask forming for the first time to Sirius. A blank chain-weave textured faceplate with a crown like jutting of ragged bone stumps made it look like mutant antlers had pierced the shadow armour.

Darklings swarmed around Harry, looking like a mist of shadow spreading away from him as he strode forward.

~•~

Harry's first step into the cave and his will to transfer to the redoubt left him in the shadowwalking plane. Purple hued x-ray views of the cave were visible as he walked a dozen yards then he was on the other side, standing on a path of stone, stretching off into the distance, wishing he had been able to bring his broom.

He could see his goal in the distance, a massive castle, sitting on the three arches from the islands, supporting it hundreds of feet in the air, shaped like a large rough cut red crystal, its bottom point just breaking the ocean's surface. It was vaguely reminiscent of Dumbledore Castle he thought as he began trudging forward but with only one tower that looked like a conical pyramid.

Doubt crept into his mind. _I can't do this_ , he thought.

Remembering his grandfather's words, he recited a mantra. "I am the Wielder, I am in charge here."

"Yes, Master," the Keeper said, clutching the Book of Shadows, now four feet tall instead or his normal two.

"I am the Wielder, I am in charge here," Harry whispered again.

Each of the three islands were nearly twenty thousand cubic miles, about the same as the UK, he knew, and the farthest away from each other was a half mile, rock and earth having been carefully added to to make the sea channels a veritable no-go for the larger ocean only life. He could walk through the channels without issue.

The Lightlings and the Darklings posted to the Redoubt itself maintained the security of the islands, growing potions ingredients, foodstuffs, and other fungible flora on those islands with a great wall surrounding it all and an anti-muggle charm to keep the flying fauna away though occasional land fauna arrived on the island by swimming as storms struck.

He took a step and the Darklings moved forward, covering the ground save for a path large enough for him.

"I am the Wielder, I am in charge here," he breathed again.

He closed his eyes as a sense of dread overwhelmed him. Something was wrong with Sirius, he had to get back!

He started to turn back but stopped. "I AM the Wielder, _I'm_ in charge here!" he exploded.

Harry made it another five hundred feet before he began to see visions of his friends under attack at school. Sophie was lying in a heap against a wall, Hermione trying to staunch the flow of the other girl's blood.

"Hogwarts is the safest place," he reminded himself. "It cannot be breached."

He deliberately placed a foot before the other, making his stride as long as possible.

He had covered a mile, fighting off constant doubt when he remembered the musical suggestion. Singing "Sun, sun, sun, here it comes,

"Sun, sun, sun, here it comes," he modified the throats of the Darklings by accident and created a huge chorus, singing along with him, pushing away the despair that spilled over him.

~•~

They were halfway along the path when the first attack came. A massive long necked sea dinosaur had come under the anti-muggle dome of magic and up the waterway.

For a long moment, Harry was stricken in shock. Intellectually he had accepted his grandfather's statements but proof was… awe-inspiring.

And dangerous, Harry realized.

His wand snapped up almost seemingly on its own and a massively bright light flared as he shouted "Lumos! Attack!"

The horde of Darklings swarmed, growing larger and larger as more were unintentionally summoned and their bodies enlarged at Harry's second unintentional command.

It easily grabbed up a few dozen Darklings in its maw even half blinded as it was.

Harry remembered a news story he had read over the summer and one of the surviving Darklings began to swell as it scrambled down the throat of the creature, somewhat imitating how the postman had survived the pit bull attack by forcing it to choke on his fist.

In a short amount of time it succumbed to unconsciousness then death as the Darkling kept it from being able to breathe.

After the Keeper congratulated Harry on his quick thoughts, the rest of the Darklings began consuming the meat of the creature as the Keeper finished a detailed sketch of the creature. Though they had no need for food, they had historically eaten the enemies of the Wielder to help sow fear amongst Dark Mages.

Harry looked away but couldn't help a chuckle as a dozen Darklings carried the skull off as a trophy and another contingent lifted the multi-tonne beast to dump it back in the ocean, tearing it apart to get it there quicker.

"It was really beautiful," Harry thought aloud. "The dinosaur books always showed them as one color but it had so many colors. And furry like an otter!"

The thought brought him to butterflies and he began summoning butterfly Darklings to scout ahead.

~•~

He had made it a mile this time before a rogue creature attacked again.

This time Harry acted quicker due to advanced warning and his Darklings restrained the creature.

It was almost six feet tall.

Its skin was pebbled, Harry saw as he got up close. It had violet wing shaped patches on its back, a yellow belly, and the rest of the skin was like a tiger's with green and orange stripes except around the muzzle where it had white and violet speckling.

Its feet had enormous hook claws and its hands were just three claws without a thumb. "This is the one gramps liked hunting‽" Harry asked in surprise. "With only a spear‽"

"Yes."

"Gramps was crazy!" Harry said as the Darklings began climbing into the creature to consume its flesh and organs from within.

His new trophy was carefully folded around its bones and joined the sea dinosaur's skull as they continued walking, Harry whistling Be Happy.

~•~

They were closing on the arch that supported the castle and would let them enter when it began to rain so hard he couldn't see more than a few feet and fog rolled in.

At a command from Harry, his Darklings began growing in size until he was surrounded by eight foot tall Darklings, creating a safe corridor to the arch as more doubt swept over him. "I am Master here!" Harry ground out then began jogging.

Then he was there, standing before massive doors which opened as he walked forward.

There was no sound as they smoothly swung inward save for Harry's ragged breathing.

Inside were stables but no animals and no smell like he had experienced before on school trips.

The Keeper urged him forward, leading him towards a pillar of light at the end, pushing the Book of Shadows into Harry's hands.

As soon as Harry stepped onto it, he transitioned like he was stepping into one shadow and out of another.

They were before him. A bookcase of the other Books of Shadow of Wielders that came before him. But theirs were true books surrounded by trophies interspersed on the c-shaped shelf.

Harry stepped forward, lifting the book up to place it besides his Grandfather's.

The room went dark then the shadows seemed to run from the center to the walls and Harry saw his book was ready.

"Welcome, Master," he heard and turned to see the Lightlings. They were all uniform size, about two feet tall, and looked like angels with golden skin, eyes, and hair, wearing gleaming white togas.

"Yes, welcome," came more voices and Harry turned to see ten skulls, all blackened save for where gold runes were carved or embossed and gems filled the eye sockets. Wands were clenched between the teeth which were also gems.

"We are the echoes of those who came before you," said another, its eyes glittering in time to its words. "We can answer your questions if our written words are not enough."

"A-are you ghosts like gramps? Err, the tenth Wielder?"

"No, only imprinted memories and modified personalities."

Harry wondered why Gramps hadn't mentioned this then realized his was likely made from his actual skull. And it had been a decade. And ghosts had weird memory issues, he remembered.

"Are you hungry, Master? Would you like your robes? Or to tour the castle?"

"I don't really have time now," Harry said. "I have to go back."

The Scribe nodded. "Of course Master. Are there any orders?"

"Umm, for now, no. Wait, yes. Please stockpile one ton of every precious metal, magic reactive stone, and well, basically anything I might need to create my Iron Man armour. Keeper?"

He nodded and handed over a blown-up diagram of the armour from one of the comics. "We're going to make the armor for real but not just like that since the alloys mentioned aren't real or possible. We'll use runic arrays and enchantments to make it real."

"We already have all that in stock, Master. Your great-great-great-grandfather decided that we should have at least five tonnes on hand at all time. That is the tonne that is equivalent to one thousand kilograms or two thousand two hundred five pounds, Master, not the one that is equivalent to two thousand pounds."

"Your Book of Shadows has all you need to know of this place," the Keeper said. "You told your Godfather you wouldn't linger too long."

Harry nodded. "Okay, thank you, Scribe. And the rest of you Lightlings."

They bowed as Harry picked up his book.

It was now a black tome with gold leaf edged parchment, a quill in the spine for his use, and gold leaf along the spine stating Harry Potter with XI after his name. Locking it shut was a fine, unbreakable chain that was so long it doubled as a placemarker.

When he arrived, he and his Darklings were treated to the image of his drunk Godfather teaching his even drunker Headmaster and grandfather's ghost how to sing School's Out by Alice Cooper.

Harry leaned against a handy tree, enjoying the free entertainment.

~•~

Back at Hogwarts, a still drunk Sirius ended up escorting Harry back to the dorm then went to the guest quarters near the Hospital Wing.

Harry checked the time on his pocketwatch before climbing into bed. Near four am. He groaned and wished it wasn't a school day.

When he was awoken at seven by Ron and the other boys, he got out of bed and dressed slowly then trudged down to breakfast.

As soon as he finished filling his plate with his usual breakfast, a mug of something steaming appeared with a card. Sirius's handwriting said it was a pepper-up latte.

As soon as he took a sip, he felt infinitely better. While it was a cold cure it also worked as a general pick me up.

"You have a latte?" Hermione asked as she sat down with Sophie next to her.

He nodded. "With some pepper-up potion. Sirius sent it." He gestured towards it and the two girls each took sips.

"What's a latte?" Ron asked.

"Steamed milk mixed with coffee and occasionally flavors," Hermione said. "It's the only kind I can get when I'm allowed coffee."

"Why?" Neville asked.

"Dad thinks I'm too energetic anyway and mum thinks it might stunt my growth. It's more milk than coffee," she explained.

Harry sniggered.

"Where did you go last night?" Neville asked.

"Finally finished all the family paperwork, I think," Harry only half-lied. He had signed a few documents while in the Headmaster's office.

"We still meeting to discuss what we've learned?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. "After dinner in the dorm again."

~•~

There was no table so this time Ron and Neville sat on Ron's bed while the girls sat on Harry's. He sat on the chair from his trunk's desk mode.

Ron's update was quick. He had learned that while he knew all the runes in both futhark alphabets and the Egyptian hieroglyphs, he didn't know how to write enchantment spells with them. "I went and talked with professor Babbling though and she lent me the correspondence coursebooks. She said we could study them and try to build the enchantments and she would evaluate our work if we promised to take runes in third year and gave her a good deal on a satchel."

Hermione went next. Hers was quite long as she presented a short but detailed explanation of all the spells. "And as you can see, while these six spells require access to the Restricted Section, we've copied over all the spells and found some newer spells that might be more useful. Professor Flitwick said he'd be happy to help us whenever we have questions and he might be interested in a satchel, too."

"Professor Green helped me with one of the plant's name but I got the rest sorted out. I sent a letter to my gran and she said she'd order the seedlings of them all and Professor Green is accepting two seedlings of each plant for each mature plant we need. He was also interested in a satchel."

Harry stood up. "I looked up all the different types of cloth and leathers.

"Dragon leather is too anti-magic to use as an inside fabric but it's really good to use as the outside stuff," Harry said, laying down the pieces of a magic-free satchel he had taken apart. He set aside the single piece of canvas that was the flap and backside of the satchel. "So we use dragonhide for that, which can be color corrected with dyes so we can have a preferred color." Ron did an arm pull and Harry knew blinding orange would be a color he wanted. "It's a bit much at about twenty galleons a hide but one dragon would make at least one hundred satchels so I think we should make one hundred in total." Hermione was writing up the costs as Harry talked. "The inside fabrics we can use are silk—which is also anti-magic when magically worked but when made by muggles is really good at holding magic—canvas, linen, and something called crinoline but it's really rough.

"To line the inside of pockets with silk will cost about a galleon in total for one hundred bags. The pack can get us a good deal on some Parisian silk.

"I think we should use canvas for these parts," Harry said, holding up the folding side section and inner panels for holding items. "It holds magic really well and by placing a sheet of magically worked silk as backing for the inner panels, we can add up to seven panels in total easily."

"What do you mean by panel?" Hermione asked.

Harry opened his satchel and revealed the top panel under the flap. It had his father's Sneaky Pete, cursepicks, and a couple vials and a flask.

"Why do you have a liquor flask‽" Sophie asked.

"It's got water in it," Harry said. "And it's my grandfather's.

"Anyway, see?" He asked, undoing a zipper and moving that panel, revealing another one underneath it, held by another zipper. "And there's one more but both of them are empty. Auror satchels usually have three like this one does. But seven would be really useful and with spells properly done, they could be different panels for each class textbook and supplies or something like that. We can also make the panels replaceable so we could have dozens but only use seven at a time."

"I did the math," Sophie said. "Not counting our time to do the spells, each bag'll cost about a galleon to make. That's about a sixth of the cost of a standard one. But the really high end ones go for a lot more. The catalog we got ahold of has some going for thirty galleons each. Those ones have tents and stuff built in to them."

"Let's make a list of stuff we think the bag should be able to do," Hermione suggested.

"Hold a broom," Ron suggested, looking over at Harry's on the wall above the guitar. "But easy to get to. Like a side pocket."

"Like this one for wands?" Harry asked, demonstrating where he had placed one of his pencil-wands. It was a small pocket on the outside of the satchel near the 'hinge' part.

"Yeah," Ron said.

"A large back pocket," Harry said, "that's completely undetectable. No, two. On the body side of the satchel."

"Undetectable, self sorting enlargement charm," Neville said.

"First thing I wrote," Hermione said. "Gotta look up to see if they can be activated by saying what you want then just reach in."

"I like the tent idea," Sophie said. "Maybe we should try to learn how to do everything they do on the high end ones. Even if we don't do them, people might want to have some of that stuff."

Hermione added tent to the list. "I'll add the other stuff after the meeting."

"An anti-muggle charm," Ron suggested. "Harry mentioned how his godfather got seen taking something too big to be in something small in London."

"Some books," Harry said. "Yeah. He got a fine for having to hit the muggle with a confundus."

"Which one is that?" Sophie asked.

"It confuses someone enough to make them either forget something or just accept that he was carrying the books in his hands all along," Hermione said.

"A hammock," Harry suggested. "I love the one I have."

"What about a bike?" Hermione said as she wrote hammock.

"What's a bike?" Neville asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "They're a two wheeled vehicle. I think Dean has a picture of one. Or can draw one at least."

A handful of other suggestions were added then the meeting was over and the girls left the dorm. Harry gratefully climbed into his bed and fell asleep without even undressing.


	9. FLY

Harry carefully carried his broom down to the Great Hall and sat with his friends but ate nothing. His throat was too dry and he felt like vomiting as he watched Ron devour enough for both of them.

The twins came over to give him words of encouragement and he nodded at them, not really sure what the two said.

Eventually Wood came over and collected Harry, leading him out, giving him a bit of a pep talk that Harry didn't hear.

Inside the boy's side of the Gryffindor changing room he dressed quickly, wondering if the girls were changing as well, remembering his accidental viewing of them the last practice when one of the twins shoved him into the girls' side of the locker room. Angelina had wrapped her towel around herself, winked at him then said, "come back when you're a fifth year and i'll give you a show. And maybe a little more." He turned bright red as he stammered apologies and excuses about the twins pushing him in then fled, the laughter of the girls following him as the twins asked if he saw anything good.

He flushed again as he remembered it, remembering fighting down the terror afterwards. He had expected the three to prank him but instead they had just lightly teased him then all three kissed his cheek as he froze.

Harry shook his head slightly to clear it as Wood gave his pep speech for a few minutes. When they started out to the field, Wood stopped Harry as the first year moved out. "Get the snitch or die trying," he told the still dangerously impressionable child.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded carefully.

~•~

The match started in nasty weather, rain and a strong wind had blown in during the time they got ready.

Even with the torrential downpour, the Slytherins were able to run the score up to 120 to 90 once Katie was sidelined due to a bludger being repeatedly aimed for her.

Harry, pressing his broom to its utmost ability, decided to forget about the snitch and instead began dive-bombing the Beaters.

His third dive was interrupted by lightning and a flash of gold, hiding next to the Slytherin keeper.

Harry leaned down, cutting down on wind resistance as he tried to line his foot up with the Keeper.

His two-fold plan mostly worked. His hand clasped around the snitch and his boot slammed into the Slytherin's jaw, knocking him around roughly.

But Harry's boot was caught and it forced him into a three-gravity turn that had him catch the hoop with his waist, sending him cartwheeling.

Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch caught Harry by transfiguring a tree into a massive angled air mattress and an impediment spell—respectively, slowing him and changing his trajectory—it wasn't the first time the two had worked to slow an out of control quidditch player. Hooch was the first to arrive.

"Gryffindor wins!" Hooch called out after blowing her whistle as she knelt down, checking him over more thoroughly than her original cursory examination. The Gryffindor team and the staff began surrounding them.

~•~

Harry awoke in the Hospital Wing to find Sirius once more sleeping in a chair, a tray covered with various candies and cards, and a CONGRATULATIONS banner with a drawing of him kicking the Slytherin sleeping across from him.

Madam Pomfrey came in and awoke the Slytherin.

Harry was surprised to see him smile at Harry as he rubbed his jaw.

When he was let go, he stopped to say, "Really good tactic but next time? Go for the guts. If they're vomiting, they're out of the game and humiliated at vomiting on themselves instead of just humiliated for getting out. Next time, Potter. Want the tooth you knocked out as a trophy?" He asked, dropping it on Harry's bedcover.

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes. "Children." She gave an in-delicate snort and pronounced the Slytherin well enough to leave then once the boy was gone, turned to Harry.

"Shirt up. Let's do a quick checkup for parasites since I've got you here then you can go up to the dorms, I'll have Cappy pop your gifts up to your dorm room when you go."

After she was done, Sirius walked him up to the dorm. "Ron gave me a play-by-play. As your honorary uncle, I'm very proud of you. As the person your mum and dad entrusted to make sure you grow up safely, fly safer! Your mum is going to have words with me and her words were always sharp. But keep winning!"

Harry grinned.

He gave Harry a hug then Harry opened the door to the common room. A party was going on and as soon as Harry stepped through, a bottle of butterbeer was placed in his hand and a Gryffindor Quidditch flag draped over his shoulders. Katie Bell gave him an accidental peck on the lips—he turned his head into her kiss when someone distracted him—for his dive-bombing the Slytherin beaters which turned him rather red and set the teasing on both of them.

When the party was near its end, Harry went up to his dorm room and added the Slytherin's tooth to a small tray then asked, "Who's he again?"

The Keeper flipped the dossier open. "Marcus Silverfang. A halfblood from France whose father had been killed by Death Eaters for marrying a muggleborn and not supporting them. His last year."

"So probably not a worry," Harry muttered.

"And bonus, new trophy that you can actually show off!" the Keeper said. "Shall I have a Lightling craft a new fitting for it to wear as a necklace? Or perhaps a setting for a ring? It would look good on a thumb ring, Master. a human tooth would be good luck." The skull, skeleton, and hide were decorating his personal lounge in the Redoubt. Each Wielder had their own lounge though most Wielders moved an item or two from another lounge into their own, leaving replicas of the original item as a static display. Harry had yet to do anything so his Lounge had a utahraptor skin rug, the bones rewired to look like they should, and the skull sitting on the fireplace mantle was from some sort of Plesiosaurus his grandfather had told him.

"How is a human tooth good luck?"

"Adora Belle Deerhart's On Adornments, page 312," the Keeper said. "The Potter library has a copy but so should Hogwarts."

Harry chuckled and dropped onto his bed.

The rest of his dormmates began arriving as he stared up at the canopy of the bed, wondering who had enchanted a mirror onto it. Sirius had mentioned it had been on there since at least the seventies but had been in a different year's room.

He liked the idea that this dorm was theirs for the seven years but felt sorry for first years next year when they'd have the highest floor as their dorm room for the next seven years.

"Harry, wanna play Battlemages?" Neville asked.

"Tomorrow after homework?" Their little group always met up with the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years in the First Year Common Room and all studied together after classes ended until dinner though Harry occasionally had practice instead. Some Slytherins also came, mostly Greengrass and Davis or Nott and Zabini, both pairs of people who avoided Malfoy and his little group of his bookends and Parkinson.

Neville nodded.

"Whose tooth is that?" Dean asked, noticing it as he picked up the tablet he had left on the shelf on Harry's desk.

"Silverfang's. He gave it to me as a trophy."

"Really?"

Harry nodded. "He suggested I go for gut hits so they vomit," he said as he sat up. "He seems nice enough."

"But he's a Slytherin!" Ron said.

"So is Aunt Andi and you love her cookies," Harry said. She was rather insistent on being called Auntie Andi pronounced to rhyme but Harry refused to do that when she wasn't around, pronouncing aunt Ont. "It's if they're purebloodists we need to worry, not their house."

Ron closed his mouth. "Really? But she married a muggleborn!"

Harry yawned. "Going to take a shower."

* * *

Harry closed his homework—Hermione had set out notes and the like for him to follow since he missed the meet due to practice—then turned and looked around the armoury. It had very little in it save a few targets and a box of treats the Tonkses had sent him—the weapons were all in an anteroom stacked and stored in oil clothes to protect them.

He pulled his satchel on and picked up the box then whistled to get Hedwig's attention. "I'm going back to the dorm now. G'night."

She flew towards him and circled him three times then flew towards the open window.

Harry shadowstepped to the small room beside the stairwell to the Headmaster's office—a suggestion by the Headmaster to ensure his privacy—then headed back to Gryffindor tower.

In the common room he sat down and Hermione asked, "Did you finish your homework? Want me to check it?"

"Yes. Meh," he replied then held out the tin of halloween candies. The little pumpkins cackled once they were picked up and didn't stop making lame jokes until you ate them while the skeletons drawn on the chocolate bars danced little jigs and the candy corn was on an actual candy cob that regrew the corn when you took it off until the enchantment wore off, usually after week or so Andi had written. Harry had already shucked it enough times he had a pillowcase full of candy corn. More to see if she was correct than a lust for the candy. Until he had tasted it. It was much better than muggle candy corn.

"Thank you," she said as she took a pumpkin.

Harry smirked as she took great relish in biting it in half to shut it up.

"What did you have for dinner?" Sophie asked as she sat down. She had left dinner early to finish a letter home. "I got sushi!"

"Some kind of pasta," Harry said. "With layers of veggies and stuff. Kinda like lasagna."

* * *

At breakfast the next morning, Harry was absentmindedly building a sandwich—due to a dream of the ninth Wielder who had spent decades in Norway and was used to breakfast sandwiches—and turned when the twins called his name.

"Huh?"

"Your breakfast is really tall," one said.

Harry looked and realized he had a waffle on the bottom then a sausage patty, a pancake, a fried egg, a slice of french toast, some scrambled eggs, another pancake, bacon, a slice of jam covered toast, and hash. "Oh."

"Ooh, breakfast sandwich contests!" one suggested.

The other twin nodded. "But we must have rules. Ease of eating."

"Presentation!"

"Taste sensation!"

"All meals!"

Harry tuned them out. As long as whatever they did didn't hit him, he didn't care. Instead, he looked for a Hufflepuff. When he saw the right one, he flicked his paper airplane. It went up high, doing loop-the-loops and barrel rolls until it reached the ceiling then flipped downwards and went ballistic.

It stuck in the girl's hair and she reached up. She looked around, annoyed as she opened it then she began laughing. The girl turned to Harry and gave a thumbs up then showed her friends who all giggled.

"What was that?" Hermione asked, somewhat disapprovingly.

Harry disassembled his sandwich tower into smaller ones. "Her parents run that game and toy shop in Diagon Alley. I was asking her if she has any of their catalogues I could have."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you just ask her?"

"Because the girls in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff giggle _every_ time I try to talk to them," he replied in an exasperated tone that made Hermione, Sophie, and all the girls in earshot giggle and Harry scowl as the older boys laughed at him.

One fifth year boy looked like he was about to say something to Harry but the fifth year girl prefect shook her head, grinning.

* * *

Harry closed the box and thanked professors Flitwick and Vector.

"It'll be tonight in our common room. Then if it goes well, I thought maybe in the Great Hall after dinner on Saturdays?"

"I expect a full report," Flitwick said. "And I'll speak with the prefects as well."

Harry nodded and thanked them again as Flitwick put a spell on the box to give it wings for an hour and a compulsion to follow Harry instead of the boy having to carry it through the castle again.

He walked out and found Sophie waiting. "What're you doing here?"

"Waiting to talk to Professor Flitwick. I didn't understand why the spell worked even though I mispronounced it in class."

"That's easy enough to explain," Professor Vector said as she followed Harry out. "The words and movement are just a codification, a way to make sure you are thinking the right effect you want. Those practice wands have you study the spell before you started school so you have a head start in a way."

"Quite," Professor Flitwick said. "As time goes on, as you are more learned and know what you want your magic to do, it will do it. But if you only think you know what you want, then the magic will fail."

"But you said saying that one spell wrong made a buffalo land on someone."

"Hyperbole. A type of joke. To make people pay attention and not fool around. The spells we start out teaching with rarely have dangerous effects when mispronounced."

"Oh."

Harry had decided to wait and walk her back to the common room, so now they were on their way, the box flitting around, reminding Harry of the puppy their neighbor had gotten their daughter. It gamboled around madly following the girl around.

"Why would they tell us a lie?"

"It's the same as your parents telling you not to swim after eating, I guess," Harry said.

"You can swim after you eat‽"

"I went diving after eating," Harry said. "Using gillyweed so I didn't need to surface for an hour!" He explained the use of it and how he had swam the barrier reef and she stared at him in awe.

"I want to do that!"

"Maybe you could come with us for a few days in the summer. Even though it's winter time there, I think, it's really nice. And the island we stayed on is private. I know my friend is going with us for a week or two. There's enough space we could easily invite you, Hermione, Neville, Ron, and Tonks if she has time off from training."

When they got back to the common room Sophie went to change while Harry placed the box on a table. "Stay."

It ignored him and tried to follow. A sixth year looked over from where she sat, reading. "Problem?"

"It's still trying to follow me."

She chuckled as she stood. Her wand out, she showed him a simple sticking charm, telling him it would last three hours at the most, and after a handful of tries, Harry got it stuck to the table. "Thanks!" He placed the note signed by Professor Flitwick telling students not to touch then went up to change for dinner.

Ron was sitting at Harry's desk, laboriously writing a letter. "Hey, I need to switch it to my wardrobe."

"Hu—oh, okay," he replied and moved to his bed, glaring at the letter.

"Who're you writing?" Harry asked as he stared at his shirt choices. He decided on a plain red shirt as Ron gave up and tossed the letter aside.

"My sister. Mum said I had to write every month telling her what school is like. But this month is like last month."

"Make stuff up," Harry suggested as he tapped his wand to his charmed laces. They tied themselves as he picked up his overrobes.

"Eh. I'll finish it later. Going down for dinner?"

Harry nodded.

~•~

Sophie and Hermione moved apart and Harry sat down between them while Ron sat a few places down, by Percy who had pointed at Ron then the seat next to himself. "What's this meeting about?" Ron asked.

"Wanna come up here, Harry?" Persephone, the seventh year prefect, asked. "This is your thing after all."

Harry stood and turned to the students. "Okay, so Sirius sent some—huh, all S words."

"Alliteration," Hermione said. "When all words start the same."

"Assonance is when they all sound alike," a helpful upper year said. A couple first and second years giggled at the word.

Harry nodded. "Fine, uh, so Sirius sent this. It's a game for groups." He opened the box and the cards flew out, stacking themselves, the box of markers then leapt out, a large poster floated up and waited behind Harry, and finally, the hopper jumped out, its crystal balls chiming with delightfully warm tones.

"Anyway, this game is called MAGIC. It's a game of chance for a large group—"

"Is this like Bingo?" a muggleborn asked.

"Yes," Harry said. The muggleborns all nodded, the younger ones looking excited.

Harry had them pass around the cards and once everyone had one, he decided it would be easier to lead them through a game than just describing it. "So it's a very easy game. We played it in Melbourne," Harry said, not mentioning it was with muggles. "The caller—that'll be me for today—will draw a marble. the marble will have one of the letters from magic on it and a rune. That letter and rune will appear on this board so you can easier match it if you haven't taken Runes. The runes on the cards are random so if you do have the peorth rune but it's under I, not under the M, you can't mark it.

"So, let's give a game a go."

Harry spun the hopper then reached in and drew out a ball as the last of the markers were passed out.

A few minutes later, Sophie jumped up excitedly "BING—err, I mean MAGIC!"

Harry checked her card. "Excellent!" He handed her a stack of seven galleon sized chocolate coins.

"So, that's how it's done. Now, normally, the cost of two cards is one knut and the prize will be some sort of chocolate gift box or some sort of amusing magic trinket except the last game of the night where it'll be bigger. Who would like this to be a game that we play once a week or month in the Great Hall after dinner?"

Everyone raised their hands and excited whispers burst out.

"Very good," came professor Flitwick's voice and he stepped out of of the concealing magic he had placed on himself. "I'll have a quick word with Al—the headmaster and the others but unless there's major issues, you should be okay for a weekly game on Saturdays after dinner."

Harry thanked the professor as Hermione collected the cards, studying the runic arrays on the back. "What do those do?"

"Anti-cheating, cleaning, and randomizing once they go back in the box," Harry said. "Remus designed them. We're opening MAGIC halls in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade and if those go over well, we'll have MAGIC nights in various pubs around the country with themes. You guys want some butterbeer?"

His group of friends nodded and Harry handed Ron a handful of sickle and a knut to get the butterbeers from the machine.

Sophie and Hermione helped him pack the stuff away as Neville asked, "Do you think a plant version could be done?"

Harry nodded. "Remus had ideas for lots of versions. He's gonna send them as time goes on."

"Who's gonna call them?" Hermione asked.

"Huh?"

"You know, call the numbers and stuff? Are you going to?" Sophie asked.

"Oh, no. Professor Babbling is. She was really excited about something that might get more people interested in Runes. And she said she's gonna play it in class occasionally."

~•~

The next day Harry had to field dozens of questions from the other houses about the game. He told them all they could check it out easier on Saturday than him explaining it.

When Saturday finally rolled around, nearly every student was in the Great Hall for the first game of the evening.

By the end of the night after thirty games, Harry was chuckling as Ron walked back from his winning the final game with a wicker erumpent horn filled with enough candy to choke an actual erumpent.

Hermione accepted the chocolate frog he offered her while Harry was both disappointed he hadn't won a game and relieved as people might think it was rigged if he did.

Once everyone had left, except Harry and his friends and the professor, Harry sat down and unlocked the card dispenser then dumped the coins out. He took out three at a time, dumping two into a bucket with the Hogwarts crest on it while the third coin got dumped into a Crown Royale bag.

Finally, Harry put the last coin in. "Almost nine galleons," Hermione said and Harry nodded.

Ron blinked. "Wow!"

"Sadly, it all goes to Sirius," Harry said, sealing the bag shut. "I think that our three galleons almost covers the prizes."

"I'll mail that for you, Mr. Potter," Professor Vector said and Harry nodded. He tucked it into the Hogwarts bucket and handed them over then the group headed back to their dorm.

"Want a frog?" Ron asked Harry and Sophie.

Sophie shook her head as Harry said, "Tomorrow?"

Ron nodded.

Back in their common room, Harry nodded at the comments from other Gryffindors about how much fun they had and stopped to say loudly "If you have ideas about the game, write them down and let me see them at breakfast tomorrow," then turned and headed up to his dorm room.

He dropped onto his bed and wished he was nine or sixteen so they were on the first floor instead of the sixth floor of the dorms.

The other boys soon trudged in and they found Harry lying on his bed, reading a comic book. "Is that the new Batman?" Dean asked excitedly.

He nodded. "I'm almost done. My other comic books are all read, you can look them over."

Dean picked up the new Superman and X-Men comics as Ron sat at Harry's desk, trying to finish his letter home. His sister had had a hundred questions he had never even thought of asking his brothers about Hogwarts.

~•~

Harry returned from the showers to find Ron groaning. He had eaten enough candy to make him sick. Rolling his eyes, Harry pushed the rubbish can next to him then flopped onto his bed, burrowing under the covers and shedding his towel then pulling on the shorts he had left under the covers. the damp towel got flung out onto the floor.

* * *

Professor Sinistra smiled as she watched the first years stifling yawns and trudging away from the tower then she turned and saw someone had left a scarf behind. She picked it up and checked the tag. Sophie Ellis-Bextor's. She called for her house-elf and had her deliver it to her bed then finished making sure the room was clean of students' belongings.

~•~

Harry, not very tired after Astronomy class, studied the runes that permeated the knob dagger: Mann, Ac, Giefu, Isa, and Cen. Man, Oak, Gift, Ice, Torch. They spelled magic in English. But in Elder Futhark they spelled nothing. And yet, as an array, they worked to link enchantment arrays to other arrays instead of just using elhaz, the symbol for the Bifrost, in ways that made the spells more effective on some items.

 _This doesn't make any sense_ , Harry thought. _Those links work on this but they won't work on other items!_

He scowled and put it away, picking up his latest letter from Bill, a mass of protection spells that would alert him the moment Harry got them disassembled.

Harry slipped a cursepick from his bag, touching it to the paper, the cursepick causing the runes on the paper to shift when he pushed them away. He moved the array that prevented all other arrays from being tampered with and pressed the sneaky pete against those four. The ink began to bubble then evaporated away. The spell was gone, leaving the linking charms unlinked. Harry dropped the sneaky pete and the cursepick then wrote a simple spell, one that would slowly deteriorate over time then cast the spell on the page with his holly wand. "Vitiavisti," he muttered.

The page exploded in his face and Bill's laughter was loud for a moment before fading away.

Growling, Harry shoved his stuff into his satchel and closed his eyes tightly, trying to forget he had failed and fall asleep.

~•~

Bill chuckled when he saw his notebook flash red. Harry had failed his little test. He powered up the same sheet of magic and put it in an envelope then sent it off to join the outgoing mail. _Maybe this time Harry will look for the invisible ink before starting_ , he thought, smirking.

* * *

Harry closed the book Hermione had lent him. It was more of a pamphlet—of new books available from Hermione's favorite muggle bookstore—but it discussed the various genres of books as well. Cyberpunk, magitek, and steampunk were his goals, he realized. He wanted to combine magic, computers, and mechanics into a bridge to magicals living on Mars.

"Thanks," he said as he handed the book back. "Magitek is a much better term than technomagery."

She looked in the book. "Oh, yeah, definitely. Shame it's illegal."

Harry nodded. "Though you can get a dispensation. That's how the Wireless came to be. The original was a real radio with some serious enchantment work to link it to another radio. They acted like a phone."

"How do you know that?"

"Remus told me," Harry said. "He was explaining how they worked. They had to get a pardon or something and there was a pretty big fine for messing with muggle stuff but the fact that Ampére ended up really rich and his family still owns the wireless stations."

"So there's no competition?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe? I dunno. I'll ask Remus if you want."

She nodded and he wrote it down in his notebook.

"How far are you on your research?" Hermione asked.

"Completely done," Harry replied. His fabric research was complete and they had ordered the material for 100 satchels pre-cut and trimmed already save for the dragon skin. They were waiting for the next Opaleye dragon to be harvested. The reservation that maintained them had four coming up for harvest and they had promised to make sure the hide sold to Harry Potter would be as flawless as possible. They were very careful since Opaleye hide was, while not the rarest, the most versatile and therefore was the most sought after.

"What's the difference between hide and skin?" Hermione asked.

"Hide comes from the legs and belly where a dragon has plates of armour, skin comes from the rest of the body and wings where it's not got heavy plating and just has lighter scales. The thicker hide is to keep the body safe from the ground and stuff. The scales're almost completely clear and'll be shredded and used to help making the thread potion."

She nodded. "Is there anything we can use the plate for?"

"Another personal project," Harry said. He was paying for it all so it had been decided all components they didn't use were his. "Gonna use them to make buckler or a wankel shields with mine and Sirius's new family crest."

"You have a new crest?"

"He does. He hates _Toujour Pur_ so he's branching a new family line if he ever has children and using _Lux in Obscura_. It means the Light in the Darkness."

"Oh. What's the Potter crest say?"

He did't tell her the Wielder's motto _in absentia lucis, tenebrae vincunt_ but instead said, "Orbis non sufficit, I think? I don't know what it means, though." His grandfather had gotten distracted as they discussed it by something on the telly. He had an enormous crush on Lorraine Kelly and had asked Sirius to find out where she lived.

Hermione wrote it down. "I'll look it up. I think sufficit means sufficient or enough though."

* * *

©®ª℗


	10. FOR

"I hate all the things that can happen between the beginning of a sentence and the end." - Leonard CoheN

DE018RK

Sirius opened his father's old diary and flicked to the page he had last been reading. The page was headed On Power.

At first he thought it was going to be Dark. And/or _Disturbing_. Instead it was about neutral relics and rituals, the majority of which had been corrupted over the centuries, Sirius knew. But a few had not been, Sirius found. Harry was too young for most and Sirius too tainted, but there were a few that could be useful. Three ritual protections, one based on smoking an herb regularly, and the fifth was a relic that was, amazingly enough, upstairs. The Potters's Bollocks Dagger. It was somewhat like the Elder Wand of legend in that it was a focus that was allegedly handed down by a personification—Venus in this case—but the Bollocks Dagger did not make the wielder unbeatable. Instead, it allowed them to know if a person a wielder wanted to seduce could be by letting them know if they were actually interested. Sirius debated telling Harry or not then decided to ask Charlus about it. The ghost probably knew, he decided. It was not a particularly rare book but the dagger was considered a legend. Sirius was only sure it was the same because of the markings on the dagger and the design in the book.

He chuckled, imagining what it would have been like to have that dagger back when he was first trying to lay a witch. He might have succeeded at fourteen instead of not getting a witch in the sack until he was sixteen.

He went back to reading the rituals. One was the same as the ritual of protection that was used for the first Wielder's wife. Sirius discounted that one. He didn't want a potential hiccup in Harry's ability to protect himself. The second ritual was a Bonding of Silver and Blood to protect oneself from vampires. He ignored that one as well. A darkling was a better protection than having silver in one's blood. The third was viable but unlikely to be used. Harry would have to raise a rabbit, name it, then sacrifice it. He doubted Harry would want to do that. So the final one was the herb smoking one, a way to change the way a smoker perceives magic. It was indescribably expensive to attain, partially because the dragon manure required was illegal in the magical United Kingdom and the herb was illegal in the mundane United Kingdom. Sirius smiled. Harry's fledgling intelligence agency had significant pull to ignore certain laws.

He called for Sinister to bring him his writing desk and then settled in to write a letter to one of his spies, an Herbology Master who was now the Botanist-in-Chief of Herbalmage, a monthly botany catalog and magazine.

 _My dear friend_ , he started the letter, misspelling and erasing and rewriting dear twice to signify the letter was not an intelligencer oriented missive but a friendly one.

 _I recently came across an entry on toclafane enhanced cannabis sativa. I hoped you would be able to share any information newer than what's in this book I read._

He added what the book said then check the files and asked how the woman's husband—Chipper—and their children—Valla and Halla, were then enclosed a small packet of rare seeds, adding a postscript saying he had no idea what they were. In fact he did; they were blood roses, a white rose that, when fed thestral blood, gradually took on the most beautiful hue of crimson and were ice-covered. A bit of a bribe.

~•~

Serra Svati nodded at her assistant as the young witch brought in a thick pile of mail.

As she flipped through, she saw a letter from her handler. She had already accepted being reactivated but wondered how her new position outside of the Ministry could help the Light.

Then she saw it was just a request for information with a packet of seeds. She set those aside for her assistant to look at and opened the letter, noticing the rubbing on the page where the writing had been erased. There was no encoding in the page.

She read through it quickly then took out a fresh sheet of forest green parchment and dipped her quill in her emerald ink.

 _Dear Sirius_ , she began.

 _It's so good to hear from you again so soon. Your request comes at an opportune time as I am about to leave for Denmark to discuss Toclafane with dragon breeders and have been reading up on it lately. Toclafane causes a magical change in marijuana that when used long term by a magical allows for a user to experience magic differently. Anecdotal evidence shows that magesight becomes an instinctive spell for many as well as a more intuitive feel to magic as the magic of the herb permeates the body. I know of a handful of people who currently partake and I will ask them for their experiences._

She added that the kids and her husband were doing well and suggested he join them for dinner one night soon. She knew he would decline. Mostly because Serra was his first sexual experience that went badly when a family curse she had never been told about had her grow vagina dentata and nearly castrated him.

* * *

Darkan Greystave smiled as Albus walked into his office. He stood and crossed the room to hug the man. "What brings you to America?"

Albus smiled. "Harry Potter and his guardian need bodyguards. And I believe they may want to buy you out."

"Really?" he asked, gesturing Albus to sit and summoning a bottle from the wet bar. He poured two fingers of vanilla infused bourbon then sat. "I am looking to retire. And most of my people would be fine with moving."

"I think they would end up going worldwide," Albus said then took a sip. "Oh, quite excellent."

"Really? What are they planning?"

"Classified."

Darkan nodded. "Of course. Well, I have a few teams right now that can transfer to England immediately: our contract with Gala ended so I have five teams on standby. We have a place in Diagon Alley I can rent to you to house them. And they have a couple yurts to use as mobile command centers."

"Yurts. I've heard of those before but I've never seen one."

"They're brilliant. They're used by Mongolians. They're round and very easy to put up. Our fifteen foot models can house a full company along with their supplies, support personnel, and still have enough space to expand out for another couple platoons if necessary. I'll get you one for your birthday."

"Speaking of birthdays," Albus said. "Thank you for the scarf last year."

"Well, I was sure you were sick of books and I was down for four months and stuck at home so I took up knitting. And I am so sick of getting war related stuff myself, i presumed you were as sick of books as I am."

"For the most part. I did receive one by accident I rather enjoyed. It was called The Witches of Wellingham. It was very gripping."

"Ahh, a robe-ripper? My wife loved those. She probably had it. She was writing them near the end, putting out a couple a month."

Their conversation strayed back to Harry Potter's needs and after forty minutes time a cost for the personnel and a cost for the business was settled. Greystave would be Harry's as soon as Sirius sent forth an offer for two hundred fifty thousand galleons. A bit of a discount but Albus had assured his friend that none of his employees would be let go.

The two shook hands then Albus looked at the available teams. Like all of the members of The Greystave Group, each team had been heavily modified with magical surgery to resemble each other if female or change their bodies to a more impressive physical specimen if male. Each male had nearly non-existent body fat, had to be able to bench press four times their own weight, and had to be able to handle the rage issues the change made. The females all received less invasive changing that didn't cause the rage issues, Albus knew so he decided on a significantly female team. And they would be more welcomed by Sirius Albus was quite sure.

"This team, the Angels of Barthe, how long have they worked together?"

"Ahh, they're relatively new. They've been together for four years now. They all are twenty-seven. The two men have had no rage issues since their modifications. It's a good choice: they've worked as Quick Response teams for the accidental magical squads. The reports from them say they're excellent with kids."

"You use mercenaries here for government functions?"

"Here in New York, yes. Since my teams are all no-maj born or halfbloods raised partially no-maj, they're all good at dealing with the no-maj parents."

"I do wish we involved the muggle parents sooner like you do here in the Colonies," he said, using Colonies on purpose to antagonize Darkan who rolled his eyes and scoffed. Albus smirked.

Darkan touched a small box on his desk. "Amoritia, I need the files on the Angels of Barthe."

She brought in nine scrolls and set them on the desk. "Angel 2 was just reset, grandpa. Be careful. I'm going out for lunch now. My new car is being delivered."

"Be safe," he told her.

"I didn't know you had a granddaughter," Albus said once she left.

"Damian married last year, that's his stepdaughter Lilith but I've known her since she was two. I think you met her."

"Oh, yes. I remember her. When you visited London in '82. She finished at Ilvermorny last year?"

"Year before."

Albus nodded and accepted the scroll that stated everything the Angels had done since beginning at the company.

Their first mission post the six months of training and the nine months of potions and magical work had been to rescue a team of Curse-breakers in the Amazon. It had turned out a little messy from what he read but they had saved all the people save one and stopped the minor daemon released.

Their next mission was a month later and they were inserted via portkeys and brooms to the top of a magically hidden mesa in Colorado. The team had led with expulso curses that bracketed the ritual, he read. Then they had landed and waded into the battle using swords and minor blasting spells.

The rest of their missions were usually less violent but they were competent from curse-breaking to dark creatures to ritual degradation.

"Yes, I think they'll do. But of course Sirius will have to sign off. And Harry as well. He's come into his family inheritance early."

"Magic or money?"

"Both, technically. When Sirius adopted him, he decided that Harry should have full control of his own assets. Harry decided he should have a trust fund instead. He's a good kid," Albus said. "Sadly, many people want him dead."

* * *

Serra shook the hand of Jak Bjornson, the wizard who met her at the train station, then Serra was fast tracked through customs.

A waiting limo drove them to a reservation hidden in Rømø where dragons were kept deep underground, their manure harvested for toclafane spores.

In the massive underground caverns, male dragons were kept in separate caves where they were fed the meat of other dragons, every two hundred pounds of meat covered with a fried egg from a common welsh green dragon and seasoned with Himalayan pink salt, green peppercorns, and ghost peppers grown in a cave in Ecuador in the Andes: the formulaic ritual created a toclafane spore for every fifteen pounds of manure which had to be sifted and found before an hour was up after extrusion or it would die.

As she was shown to a cavern where handlers were digging through dragon feces, looking for the spore—a macroscopic creature she was surprised to learn when she saw the thumb sized purple and pink protozoan. It was immediately placed inside a potion, cleansing the dung from it before it was added to seven pounds of sugar. It went wild, eating it rapidly, growing until it split.

In the forty minutes she watched, it split into 65537 spores in total before the sugar was all eaten. Those spores began to eat each other, splitting and consuming until once again there was only one remaining, this one massive, its body bulging oddly until it exploded into a gooey mess in the cauldron. More sugar was added then the mixture was added to mulched dragon manure.

"That's fascinating," Serra said as she watched the brown mixture turn black, the nitrite crystals in it turning green from the gooey mess. Purplish-black sand was added until it was turned into 42 lbs of soil and compacted into a cube.

"This is going to the Caribbean. They'll be using it to create a new flower clock."

"How many countries are you able to sell this stuff to?"

"Forty. Mostly tropical countries that are former French colonies."

"Probably why it's illegal in my country. Speaking of, I have a client who is looking for more information on the spore. Is there any literature I could get for him? He may be able to use it in the UK."

"Really?"

Serra shrugged. "I don't know the particulars but he is very interested in toclafane enhanced cannabis sativa."

"Ah, the _really_ good stuff," Jak said, grinning. "I wish I could afford to get it. The only place legal to grow it right now is in Uruguay, the witches there are pretty good at it too. A month's supply is about a thousand galleons."

"I wonder if the cost is due to the rarity since it's only available from there?"

He shrugged. "Seems reasonable. I'll find the paperwork and have it for you tomorrow before the conference or send it to you."

They shook hands then Jak passed her off to another handler, this one a petite witch with a dragon-claw scar on her face, framing her eye so it looked like a half-moon spectacle. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Svati. My mom reads your column religiously. She has this climbing column of ice dragonlilies that she said it's your column that won her the past four display awards she's gotten."

"Your mum is Harrietta Mabit?"

The girl grinned. "Yeah!"

"She's got a great eye for building trellis displays. I have two pictures of her displays in our display at the office for visitors to look at. What's your name?"

"Maribella."

She showed Serra around for a few more hours, showing her how the omelettes were made—the wizard doing the work was half-giant and wearing a chef's neckerchief and chapeau in white over a crimson red chef's jacket and a pair of baggy checked trousers.

"Ever tried dragon egg?" he asked as he flipped the one in his pan.

"No, are they good?"

He held up a finger then flipped the egg onto a platter and cut off a small bit of the white and the yolk and held them out on tooth picks.

"Whoa," Serra said. "Spicy!"

He grinned and held out a glass of milk. "But good, eh?"

"Yeah. It had a bit of a—well more of a very—spicy pepperoni flavor to it."

* * *

Sirius shook the hand of the last member of Harry's new security team, the second of the two men. They both had mostly shaved heads with the one with gold eyes having a three foot long reinforced braid from a four inch circle of hair on the back of his head while the other wizard had icy blue eyes and a green X-shaped mohican. Sirius was fairly sure Harry was going to think that looked awesome.

"So while Harry's at school, what are you going to do?"

"Professor Dumbledore said that you have multiple properties that need to be secured, including a location in Hogsmeade, a new castle, this home, and an island?"

"Oh, yes. Well let's go to the castle first then. We've got the dwarves in right now, redoing the foundation and the cladding and a couple dozen wizards repairing the wood within."

Followed by the seven Angels of Barthe, Sirius led them out to an intercom style device at the end of the drive. He punched in 7799663. "It'll be here soon.

"So how do you all differentiate if you all use the name Angel?"

"Angel A through Angel G," the red-headed Angel said.

"You're really all named Angel?" he asked, still shocked.

There were chuckles as Angel D, the platinum blonde, said, "Those are our real names. Or variants of. Mine was actually Joanna de Angeliano. Theirs are all given names."

Sirius looked them over. Angel A was a brunette with green eyes, Angel B had black eyes and dirty-blonde hair, Angel C had mousy brown hair and matching eyes with green flecks, and Angel E had copper colored hair. Their skin was all close to the same tone, what Sirius had heard called Olive, he thought.

Before he could say anything else, a black Aero City bus with neon lights and loud music playing shuddered to a stop. "We have seven of these buses for transporting our muggle and magical staff to the castle. For now, it's location is classified: it's hidden by the fidelius charm."

Aboard the bus, three women in go-go cages and skimpy lingerie were dancing to the music. All muggleborns who had finished fifth year but hadn't done well enough to continue into sixth. They could use magic but weren't very good. Dancers on a bus that was rarely used paid much better than waitress in a pub and being pawed.

Sirius loudly said, "Uh, this is my personal transport, the staff ones aren't like this."

They laughed.

~•~

In the castle, Sirius showed them the security offices first, the former barracks for the castle's soldiers in the inner North walls that separated the inner courtyard from the outer courtyard where the 'townspeople' had lived before the separation of muggles and magicals. The other five sections of the inner wall were used for storage, an armory, the stables, and a number of buildings for craftsmen necessary to the castle back then. The outer courtyard had surprisingly spacious living areas for nearly a hundred thousand people that were being disassembled to be turned into multi-tiered gardens and livestock paddocks to feed the new denizens.

"I've never heard of this castle before," one of the wizards said.

"It was abandoned. No one knows why exactly. The family that owns it couldn't afford to rebuild it and no one wanted to buy it since it was so expensive, required so much work, and has massive back taxes on it that we were able to avoid due to the branch that will be paying you."

"Oh?" Angel A asked.

"We have a remit from the ICM to form a worldwide surveillance and espionage organization, making use of technology and magic combined." And significant loopholes to abuse.

They all turned to look at him as Remus's voice came around the corner. "Sirius?"

As soon as he came around, Sirius introduced the Angels to Remus.

* * *

Neville walked into the greenhouse and looked at the seedlings growing. They were the ones his grandmother had ordered for him. As he checked the soil moisture, Professor Green came in and looked around. "They're doing well, Mr. Longbottom. How's the spellwork for the product going?"

"Hermione and Sophie said they should finish researching all the spells by February. Harry's almost done with the fabrics, and Ron's almost done learning how to do the enchantment bases, professor."

"The Septarines are blooming in Greenhouse seven. You should pick seven to send your grandmother."

Neville nodded. "How'd you know my grandmother liked those?"

"All women like them. They mean your elegance is magical. You should always add at least one to a bouquet but three or seven are better."

~•~

As Neville was mailing off the seven he had picked, Harry walked into the owlery and a whispering white death flew past Neville and settled on Harry's shoulder. "Gah!"

"Hedwig, stop that!" Harry told her. "Sorry, she really likes scaring people."

"It's okay. Who're you sending a letter to?"

Harry affixed Hedwig's harness and put the letters in. "Tonks and Licorice. Wait for Tonks's reply, please."

Once she was on her way, the two walked back to the dorms. "How long until the plants are done? Do you need help?"

"Professor Green is helping with taking care of them. Gran said he wrote her and said he was really impressed with me."

"He should be," Harry said at the Keeper's prompting. "You're really good at that stuff. I bet you'd be a great apprentice to professor Sprout when we finish at Hogwarts then a professor when she retires."

"Really?!"

"Yeah. You're good at theory, Hermione said. And great at herbology."

"I'm going to the potions club," Neville said after a bit of thought. "Coming?"

"Not today. Practice with the team."

They split off and Harry headed back to get his uniform and broom as Neville went to Potions club. Older students ran the class so that each club meeting did two potions per meeting per year level; the first the potion for that week, the second the potion for the next week with a quiz on potion ingredient reactions.

As Neville walked in, Hermione waved him over to join her and Dean.

~•~

Harry was running around the pitch, getting sweaty and out of breath along with the twins.

When he dropped, they kept going, only slowing enough to make sure he was actually okay before they continued until they dropped.

Oliver soon had them up in the air, flying swoop drills on a large dog he had transfigured from a rock.

The dog would do a backward flip every time they missed grabbing the hoop it held in its mouth until Harry grabbed it on his sixth dive and the dog was transformed back into a rock.

"Well done!" Oliver said then retransfigured the rock into a dog as Harry tossed the hoop back at him.

~•~

Hermione and the other five Gryffindors who had gone to the Potions Club meeting were sitting at the Gryffindor table when Harry and the rest of the team came in. She and Neville went to join him where they usually sat, in the spot between where the Prefects sat and where the team sat near the far end from the staff side.

Sophie walked in with the rest of the girls from first year and plopped herself down next to Harry as Ron came in and sat down next to Neville across from the three.

Harry grimaced at this—he hated having Ron sitting across from him at meals—but didn't do anything. Instead, he opened his comic book and read _The Transmutation of Ike Garuda_ until the food appeared on the table.

"What's that about?" Sophie asked.

"A detective looking into a missing transport thi—err, platform."

"What's a detective?" Neville asked as he happily dug into his Lancashire hot pot.

"Independent Auror," Hermione said, even happier to dig into her sushi.

"Oh. They're usually called Private Aurors or Aurors-for-Hire."

Harry poked at his meal, unsure of what it was until Hermione noticed. "It's a cheeseburger pie. I had it last week. It's really good."

As he ate, Harry continued reading until Hermione put her chopsticks on the platter and said, "Oh, Harry, your family motto is 'The World Is Not Enough.' It's also James Bond's."

Harry perked up at that. _I'm building a spy agency and have the same family motto as the coolest spy ever_ , he thought.

* * *

Sirius skipped a few steps on exiting the floo then shifted to Padfoot and barreled out of the hospital wing, sliding past groups of students and jumping over one group of first years filling a hall then realized he had Harry's scent and turned around. One of the first years was looking at him, rolling his vivid green eyes at the dog's antics.

"Is that Hagrid's dog?" a Hufflepuff asked.

"No," Harry said. "He's mine. And he's not supposed to be at the school."

Padfoot leapt on Harry and licked him, making him try to fend the dog off as the children laughed.

Harry finally got him under control and led him to the hospital wing since it was the only place he knew of with a functioning floo for transit.

Hermione and the others followed along.

In the wing, Sirius changed back and grinned at the slobber covered Harry. "You could use a comb."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You will rue this day. You hear me? Rue. Well? Go on, start ruing! You rued bastard!"

Sophie giggled as she entered the room.

"You're an animagus?" Neville asked. "That's so cool!"

"What's an animagus?" Hermione asked.

"Wizards who can turn into animals," Ron said. "They're really rare."

"Not that rare," Sirius said. "But so many people realize their form is useless so they just never register or use it. A girl in our year was a sloth. Why become a sloth unless you think your life is too hectic?"

That made Hermione giggle then she explained what a sloth was, moving slowly, making the rest of the first years in the group laugh.

"And my grandfather was a cow. Not even a bull but a cow. He was humiliated when it got out," Sirius finished. "Anyway, I came to talk to Charlus but I decided to see you too."

"Why've you got my dagger?" Harry asked, realizing the bollocks hilt was protruding from his grandfather's belt. "How'd you get in my safe?"

"You're really gonna ask me how _I_ got into a safe?" He smirked. "Anyway, this is what I needed to talk to Charlus about. Now, run along. I'll see you in a week or so."

~•~

As they walked away, Neville asked, "Umm, did that dagger look like what I thought it looked like?"

Harry nodded. "They're supposed to, well, to look like, errm," he paused, looking at the two girls who had smirks on their faces as they looked at him expectantly.

"Well?" Sophie asked.

"It's _supposed_ tolooklikebollocks," he said fast, his face red.

The girls both exploded into giggles, more at his expression than at the word.

~•~

Charlus looked up from the book he was reading and said, "Quill command, pause."

Sirius set the dagger on the table then put his father's diary on the table.

The ghost read it slowly.

"Fascinating," he said when he finished reading it. "Have you tested it?"

"Yes. Madame Rosmerta has no interest in me but her new barwitch deepthroated me."

"Deepthroated?"

Sirius explained using hand gestures and his own open mouth.

"You seem to have some skill at that," Charlus said drily.

Sirius gave him two fingers. "So, should I tell Harry?"

"No. Well, yes, actually, but when he's seveteen, not now. Attempting to have sex is a time-honored tradition of youth. I never got to ask James who he finally bedded first."

"Jilana, a recent graduate in between our fourth and fifth." There was still a hint of jealousy in his voice.

"Good for him," Charlus said,

I wonder how we never knew of this. Or maybe we did but it didn't get passed on," he said thoughtfully, stroking his beard. "I'll have the darklings check the family archives—" Harry had assigned a dozen to study the family library of journals and copy anything of potential interest and make an index of everything else then present it to his grandfather "—and we'll see if it's mentioned there."

"It's always amusing," Sirius said. "'I shall maintain this journal for my future children will need this information.' And then no one ever reads the family journals."

Charlus chuckled. "Yeah, historians make more use of family journals than family members ever do."

"Okay, I'll put Harry's dagger back then I have a date with a vicious trollop."

Charlus raised an eyebrow. "A troll?"

"Trollop. You know, a slut. The barmaid? That was her nickname at school. She could fight and fuck like no one else."

"Ahh, well stick to the shagging," he said, dismissing Sirius and turning back to his research.

Sirius tossed some floo powder into the fireplace as he said "Rosmerta's Public House."

~•~

"So are you going to learn to be an animagus?" Sophie asked. "Because I want to."

Harry nodded. "But it's not ultra-important so I'm not working on it now."

"What's not important?" Hermione asked as she approached with a stack of books.

Harry raised an eyebrow as he looked at the titles. All about animagi. "That," he said, pointing at the stack.

"I just wanted to learn more about animagi," she said defensively.

"I meant that was what we were talking about. Animagi."

"Oh."

"Are you going to try to be one?" Sophie asked Hermione.

"Maybe. It depends on what I learn from here," she said. "You?"

"Definitely. I want to be a Dove," she replied. "You?"

"She'll be a honey badger," Harry said.

"Why a honey badger?" Hermione asked.

"Dunno, just seemed you."

Hermione wasn't sure if she should feel insulted or honored so she set to reading and making notes instead.

After two hour's of research—which Harry spent working on his homework he missed doing in group due to quidditch practice and Sophie spent writing in her notebook—Hermione had learned there were three methods of focusing the animagus spell on a person. The way Professor McGonagall had done it she assumed—from her explanation in class after demonstrating it—which was months and potentially years of meditation. The second way also required meditation but it was combined with various potions that let one see their form then they were transfigured by someone else into their form over and over until the form was second nature to the person. The third excluded the mediation and constant transfigurations, instead the person was covered in spells via tattoos that forced the body into its form at a mental command until it became second nature.

Hermione used a light pink ink to make a line through the second and third way of doing it. She didn't want her body covered with tattoos or to have someone constantly cast a transfiguration spell on her.

"Which way did your dad and Sirius do it?" she finally asked.

"Tattoos for him and Sirius, transfiguration for the traitor."

"Oh," she muttered. "I was hoping one of them did it via the first method."

"Meditation? Sirius said that's how professor McGonagall did it. You could ask her. And there she is," he said, pointing at the professor as she walked into the library.

Their Head of House walked over to a table near them and spoke softly with the students at it. Two got up and left as Hermione raised her arm, thinking she was done speaking.

McGonagall noticed the arm and made her way over.

"Professor, did you do the meditation for the animagus transformation?"

"Yes. It's the only way I suggest because the other two ways have drawbacks. Though I know Sirius and James did the third way, I do not suggest it for one small mistake in the tattoo process, you could end up stuck somewhere in between." She drew in a breath, looking away from them. "In fact, a good friend did such. She died soon after when she was stuck partially as a fish and partially human. Fish use gills instead of lungs. She suffocated because she still had a mouth but had no lungs to draw air into."

Hermione and Sophie both blanched at the mental image.

"But this is something I will help you with if you are able to maintain an O average in Transfiguration and make it into my NEWT class."

"What about just meditating to find out if I have a form?"

"It may take you five years to get to that point," she told her. "I am considered a prodigy, like Mr. Potter's father was and it still too me six years of meditation and hard work to get to that point."

Hermione nodded.

She told them to have a good day then left.

Harry hesitated then said, "I think Remus or Sirius could tell you how to do the meditation." It wasn't in the books available to first years. "Sirius had me studying the meditation form because he and Remus aren't as good at transfiguration as my dad was and they said I shouldn't ink up like Sirius did."

"So you could show me then?" Hermione asked.

"No. I mean, I could, but it wouldn't be right. Ummm, I mean, safe."

Hermione made a mental note to ask Harry's godfather.


	11. Hermione, an Omake

Darkness Ascendant, a Hermione Omake:

Hermione checked one more time to make sure her parents weren't home then nervously dropped her vest on the floor and kicked off the skirt she wore. Her bralette joined them next then her knickers. She now stood in the middle of her room facing a camera, naked, feeling a major trill of titillation as she imagined Harry or Sophie walking in on her.

Her nerves getting to her, Hermione snapped the pictures and hurriedly redressed, leaving off her undergarments, reveling in the feeling of brazenness at going without.

An hour later she had finished developing the photos–tucking one away in a hidden spot she thought she might one day decide to give to Harry–and settled down to begin the process.

Magical ink, designed normally to go under the skin to begin the animagus process was loaded into a quill and she began the slow process of 'tattooing' her nude photograph, frozen with a spell. She did her best not to focus on her flaws-a not flat enough stomach, too small breasts, a waist only a bit narrower than her boyish hips. Both Sophie–who was so stylish and feminine and fashionable–and Harry–who had grown women more than willing to do what he wanted considering what those slags haf suggested in the night club–had both seemed to enjoy that night, she reminded herself.

Her face went red as she remembered all three having too much to drink and the haziness of what then happened on the beach in Australia. _Everything but,_ she thought. _And if Harry or Sophie asks, I just might do that the next time. Or if they just try without saying anything._

She pushed that thought away and went back to carefully inscribing the runes, sigils, and chaos emblems that made up the third version of the animagus 'spell.'

A mistake.

Hermione scowled and burnt the photo image side down so she didn't see the terror of her graven image then began again.

Six mistakes in total but the seventh image was flawless. And then it happened. Instead of a nude Hermione covered in ink, a black splotch showed in the image and she jabbed her wand at it, glad for the mage 'couple' living next door. She knew who they really were. Her bodyguards. But because they were there she could do magic, the trace couldn't distinguish between her and them, just that magic had been done within a sixty metre circle which encompassed both homes.

The image zoomed in and a large black scorpion waved a pincer at her then began doing a little jig.

A/N: Not her form in story. Not how she and Harry and/or Sophie have their first hookup(if they even do at all, only Fleur and a hatefuck and Tonks are seriously plotted atm with Sophie and Harry being a potential endgame). Though having it happen in Australia is likely.

Just… it's been so long since I wrote anything on this story and this idea came to mind while I had tea.


	12. Notes on MARS, a peek at my thoughts

Another notes post, i thought you might find this interesting.

Mission to Mars

Let us presume that in the darkness!potterverse mars, venus, and their—and our—moon[s] have ley lines and are candidates for terraforming(and mageforming).

Let us also presume that harry has the political clout to create a corporation that use technomancy to hide magic within technology and operate openly as they begin preparing to first scan, then send robotic landers (actually controlled by paintings and using custom floos for communication), and finally a 'manned'—though also goblins, house elves, and darklings—mission to verify the information.

With the information verified and they know mars is possible to inhabit, we begin the process by building greenhouses for foodstuffs and underground shelters to inhabit during the terraforming process.

What follows are a few steps. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is write plausible ways for the potterverse to make these happen WITHOUT the average fanon bs like magical cores as well as add any other steps i've missed.

The story will have this taking place over a century at least with the first colonial buildings being built from materials there—or in belt—beginning in approximately 2017 and finished by 2031.

The use of rockets is superseded by mass accelerators as well, only using magic for structural integrity and lightness of metal, making faux-alloys that are trade secrets and left unpatented due to not being able to say 'well we did it with magic, actually.'

Harry's assets:

Muggles with space exploration experience, rocket scientists, and so on, most spouses or parents of magicals, the rest read in by an icw edict.

Technomancers from around the world

His own private research and technical development dept

A SHIELDesque intelligence agency, sanctioned by the ICW AND NATO nations, though few to none of the nations know about the magical aspect, just that REDACTED* are very effective agents.

His darklings who can spy on anyone—save the goblins—without being detected.

An encyclopedia, in the middle of collating all knowledge and distilling it to the bare minimum for inclusion into the project, staffed by hundreds of knowledgeable witches and wizards.

A tome, linking him to the tomes of his ancestors who wielded the darkness before him where they recorded their thoughts, rare spells they learned or created, and the like. Pointless for this project but still an asset.

Significant public goodwill due to his name in public and his philanthropic projects.

Good to excellent relations with every magical country—save china and south Africa which are neutral to him due to his reputation—due to his encyclopedia research groups' ambassadorial system.

In essence, his encyclopedia and their ancillary projects such as REDACTED and R&TD has become a de facto government of its own, an accident but useful they find, even if it's all ministry and no ministered at the moment.

Hermione's names for projects when turned into an acronym are always bad. Her adult and relatives support environment (magical computers that parents can bbs chat with other muggleborns' parents or order stuff from diagon alLey for their kids) acronym as arse. [Any ideas to turn that into arsenal actually?]

Steps:

Increase mass of moons to create tidal lock on core

Increase mass of mars to increase gravitational pull

Increase spin of mars to increase gravitational pull?

Lock moons to stable orbits

Introduce a runaway greenhouse effect

Reliquify core of mars to restart magnetic fields, via tunneling golems?

Create golems to seed fauna and biomass, creating a simplified ecosystem prior to introducing all magical fauna and flora.

Use magic to pull ore and predominantly ice remnants from asteroid belt, sterilize ice prior to crashing onto mars. Leave ore orbiting and bring it down magically? Crash it on the moons so industry is done there while mars is to be paradisiacal?

Raise atlantis and transfer it to mars after adding a glass onion dome over it.

Colony layout:

The first colony will be seven uk sized [eventual] arcologies surrounding a greenland sized biodome with olympus mons at the fourth spot at the 135 degree point if seen on a map. Each arcology is connected by a bullet train track to the closest two in a circle with more bullet trains from each arcology making spokes to the central biodome. Food production takes place all underground.

Each arcology will be designed to eventually hold 7 contiguous levels of human residential space with six park layers between them. Hogwarts's mars campus is on the opposite side of the planet or on Atlantis.

Atlantis is to float above olympus mons.

Eventual growth will have more colony-states based on the same layout, named for each continent. Eight spokes radiating off a central preserve with the 135 degree spoke always being some natural formation or a second preserve.

Magical creatures can have their own domes or live in preserves or migrate between the two at will. Goblins reside inside olympus mons, slowly expanding from there. Dwarves build their colony-state within pavonis mons and extending deeper than the goblins. Selkies do not emigrate until the oceans are properly seeded. Dragons eventually fly free when there's an atmosphere.

Harry's private arcology tops olympus, completing its shape but adding spires of gold and crystal, making it look like a glass castle atop the mountain(design commissioned by sirius). (I know it may still be active. In this story, it's not and if it was, goblins would have their own magic to deal with diverting magma or shielding from it and utilizing it.)

The rich will be able to build 1-3 mile circumference crystal domes that float in a matrix somewhere that sounds incredibly rich. Much like puritan mews in transmetropolitan.

*no name yet but i kinda want to come up with an acronym from REDACTED for the organization. Fairly unlikely. Maybe something like magic or mage?


	13. LOST

A/N: this chapter is incomplete. I'm going to add more soon i hope. But I wanted to post something AND update you all.

* * *

Sirius opened his diary to the page for the day after finishing the coffee Remus had brought him. "So glad you spent so much time in America," he said as he took out his new pencil—Sirius had loved Harry's pencil wands and had the same made up for him—and began adding notes to his appointment schedule for the day. They were interviewing six Blackguard Aurors from Germany and three from Pakistan for positions as operatives.

"James and I were planning to try out for the Blackguards," Sirius said. "We were going to wait until Harry was able to walk then we were going to apply."

"You would've been good," Remus said.

Sirius sighed. "Nine interviews before lunch then the rest of the day is interviews with people I don't know what they do."

"They're all experts that people we know vetted already," Remus reminded him. All eleven people they were interviewing post-lunch were potential editors and researchers for the Encyclopedia Arcana.

There was a knock at the door and a woman stuck her head in. She smiled. "Hey Sirius, Remus."

"Kate, what's up?"

She brought in a thick stack of computer printouts, liberally covered with red, blue, and green ink from handwritten annotations. She and her husband, Dade Murphy, were muggle experts on Computers and the muggle's computer communication network with a ten year old daughter who was to begin at Ilvermorny next year but they were debating sending her to Hogwarts now that they lived in England due to their new jobs.

"This is the specs of what the internet is like right now and the handwritten notes are best guesses on what it'll be like in the next decade. The last thirty pages or so are ideas on what a magical net should be like. We worked on it with Chandra and Mallican." Chandra was an expert on the floo and Mallican was a muggleborn who had been fined a number of times for experimenting with muggle artifact enchantment. "Along with notes expanding on Granger's ideas. Why did she name it ARSE though?"

"She called it the Adult and Relative Support Environment," Remus said. "Still not sure she realized what it shortened as. Her other few ideas had rude acronyms too."

Kate giggled. "Will she be coming through any time soon?"

"I was debating bringing Harry by over the winter break but we could have the whole group of friends come by on a Saturday in a week or two."

Remus checked Harry's school and game schedule. "Next weekend would be good. And Albus already okayed the Angels on the grounds so we could introduce them. if he likes them, they can station an Angel there."

~•~

A Darkling appeared in the canopy of Harry's bed. The Wielder wasn't there. He waited.

Hours passed as students and house-elves came and went.

Then Harry walked in and changed from his dirty clothes into his bathing robe, went into their bathroom, then came out, drying his hair.

As he dressed, the Darkling whispered, "Master?"

Harry pulled on his boxers and his BDU trousers then a Superman shirt followed and he sat on the bed, looking up where Darklings always waited.

"Master, your godfather will be arranging for you and possibly your friends to visit the castle over the weekend."

"Oh. Thanks!"

The Darkling gave a salute then vanished back to where he was supposed to be, watching Sirius via the hollow bullet necklace Sirius wore. the Darkling who had taken his place returned to the Redoubt.

~•~

Dressed and hungry, he headed down to the common room and found Hermione and Sophie waiting for him. Sophie asked, "Superman?"

"Sirius picked it out. In a couple Saturdays, we'll be going to the Castle to see what's happening there," he told them. "Maybe. I think he has to get your parents' approval so probably write a letter?"

* * *

(following scene retcons a scene from last chapter. choose which version you prefer, I had forgotten I added the scene to the last chapter when I wrote this one. the bollocks dagger will appear again but its reveal won't matter.)

"He'll be here in a moment," Pomfrey said then left the office.

A few minutes later, Charlus floated in. "Sirius. How's it going?"

"I was reading some of my dad's old research on rituals. He came across some information on an artifact. His notes in the margins show he thought it was real but probably destroyed."

"Should we be looking for it? What does it do?"

"No need. It's upstairs under Harry's bed."

"Oh?"

"The Bollocks Dagger. From the markings on it, I think this is the one mentioned."

"It does something beyond turning into a stave that you can cast with?"

"Yeah. It seems that if one is holding it while talking with someone, you'll know if they want to have sex with you."

Charlus started laughing and didn't stop. Since he didn't need to breathe, he just kept laughing until he finally was worn out.

"Ser—Truly?" he asked.

Sirius nodded. "You didn't know?"

"No. It's just been in the family forever. Don't know where it came from."

~•~

Harry put down the letter from his godfather then turned to where the Keeper was hanging out of a shadow. "Really?"

He nodded. "Want a Darkling to bring it to you?"

"Yes, please."

A Darkling appeared, holding the blade out. "Here, Master!"

"Thank you."

He took the blade and removed the very penis-looking sheath then looked the blade over. Faint scratchings that might have been words but he wasn't sure. He put the sheath back on then looked the rest of the knife over. A faint scratching of the runes that he thought might have been POTTR but he wasn't sure. He didn't have that good of knowledge yet. Harry copied them onto some parchment then set it on the desk and handed the blade back. "Put this away in my room. But stay with it. If anyone other than Sirius tries to take it, restrain them. And have another Darkling with you so it can let the Keeper know if you need to."

The Darkling took the blade, pounded his chest and slung his fist forward, then disappeared.

~•~

Ron handed the parchment scrap back. "Yeah, those're the runes for Potter. Weird it doesn't have the E in it. Wanna play chess?"

Harry shrugged. "Thanks. Sure."

They played for an hour until there was a knock on the door and Hermione's voice. "Harry, they're here!"

The boys left the spilled chess board on the floor and headed downstairs to join the other three. Two hulking men were standing behind Sirius and Professor McGonagall.

"You kids ready?" Sirius asked as McGonagall tucked the permission letters into her robe's pocket.

They all nodded.

"Will you be flooing?" McGonagall asked.

Sirius shook his head. "We have shuttles for moving staff to and from work. It's waiting for us at the gates."

Remus walked into the common room. "You all have jackets? It's raining at the Campus."

"I'll get yours," Sophie said and went up to their dorm room while Harry tugged on his hooded sweatshirt. Neville and Ron went up to get theirs.

Once the others returned, they headed out of the common room and through the castle. As they walked to the gates, Sirius said, "Harry, this is Angel F and Angel G. They're part of your security entourage."

"How come you're so big and look alike?" Neville asked.

"Are you twins?" Hermione asked.

"Potions and illegal spells," one of the men said. "We're based in America. We're operatives for the Congress, directly under the orders of the president for the first few years that we're members of Greystave."

"What's Greystave?" Ron asked.

"A Fast-Reaction and Intelligence Agency. Our job is to destroy the elements that will harm people."

"Like the FBI?" Hermione asked.

"Closer to the NSA with a paramilitary leaning," one replied. "But we're a private company with a contract, not an official agency."

"Why?" Sophie asked.

"Legal reasons. Our body modifications done to an Auror would be a serious crime, aurors committing dark deeds. Done to a citizen, it's a crime if we don't serve the citizens for a certain period of time."

~•~

They stumbled off the bus, both girls nauseous along with Ron. Harry and Neville had both enjoyed the ride. Sophie had mentioned it was almost as bad as a roller coaster then had to explain them to Ron and Neville. Sirius decided to take the kids during the summer.

Man receives from oak a gift, the ability to battle ice, with a torch.


	14. OMAKE

An omake: i swear i plan to write on this story again life has just been painful. This is canon to my tale and i may rewrite a chapter to add this scene in.

But unlikely.

* * *

Hagrid smiled as Professor Kettleburn lead the students down to the empty paddock.

The first years of all four Houses were together for this event, the yearly Unicorn progression as they moved from the forest northeast of Hogwarts and into the Southwest portion of the Forbidden Forest.

It began.

⁂

Harry and his friends were leaning up against the magical paddock, designed to herd the unicorns as they exited one part of the forest.

The sound of the herd was soon heard by the students and the whispered conversations died away abruptly as the first unicorn was revealed.

Silver with a muted rainbow mane and a shimmering rainbow horn, he strode majestically into the opening of the paddock, seemingly nodding at Professor Kettleburn.

"This is the herd's leader. The most powerful male in the forest, he is followed by most of if not all the female unicorns in the forests. He seems to accept being called James."

~•~

Harry looked around. The girls had stars in their eyes as they looked at the creature. The other boys seemed interested but less so than the girls. He wondered why girls liked horses so much.

~•~

The rest of the herd began to step out of the forest. Uncountable numbers of Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Violet unicorns surrounded snow white foals and were followed by five pure black unicorns and one gold unicorn that was a hand larger than the king.

"Every color of unicorn lends their magic to something different. And as you can see, they're all born white. They'll begin to darken to a silver if male or a different color if female as they age. By two they'll have their full colors and be full growm at four.

"The black unicorns are different in a way we still don't understand. We're not sure why but they rarely are able to breed but when they do, they always breed a male.

"The gold unicorn is the matron of the herd. The oldest and wisest of the unicorns, she is in charge when the king is away. I call her Gertrude."

At hearing her name, she trotted towards the professor.

After he bowed, she bowed back.

~•~

Once the golden one got near a human, the younger unicorns began to approach the children.

Massive sighs and squeals of excitement filled the air as the students were granted the chance to scratch or pat the foals.

Save Harry. They all avoided him.

He knew why—most unicorns feared the Darkness in him—but it still hurt. He had hoped to pat one as well, having dreamt of riding horses so often due to the Darkness.

Other students noticed that he was the only student to be avoided by the unicorns and the only conclusion for them was the obvious one.

⁂

Sirius was savoring his first drink of tea when he saw the headline.

WHO'S HARRY POTTER'S LOVER‽

 _At Hogwarts on Monday, the students had the chance to see the yearly progression of unicorns and like every year, they allowed the first years to see them up close._

 _This reporter was there, watching from a distance when she saw it. The unicorns avoided Harry Potter. We all know Unicorns will attack Dark Creatures and Wizards on sight. And won't allow nonvirgins to touch them._

 _As he wasn't attacked, who is the witch who's captured an eleven year old Harry Potter's heart?_

Sirius's tea splattered the newspaper as Remus walked in. "Sirius! Sid you see this front pa—ah. You have."

"First we verify it's the Darkness for why he can't, then we kill this Skeeter woman," Sirius growled.


	15. Omake Zwei

Omake: While not exactly like this scene, this will happen in the story eventually.

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Sirius studied the reports from the North Pole. It boiled down to three data points:

Basilisk Skin armour was the strongest but too thick and unwieldy.

Dragon Skin armour was light and incredibly resistant and could he hinged properly.

Nundu Hide armour was deficient in gross protection comparatively but had an interesting property. If attuned to a wearer, it acted as the hide did on the animal: stealthy, reflective of non-lethal spells(a too strong lancing pierce had cut right through it and removed a researcher's arm), and could be induced to mimic other materials.

As he read, he had a mental image and grinned. A hastily penned memo was sent back to the North Pole.

⁂

Head Researcher and former Unspeakable Hamish Doright idly watched his assistant, Glenda Goodwitch, as she cleaned up the broken vase. The room they were in was completely proofed from magic so she was currently bent over sweeping up the shards, shaking the best looking arse Hamish had seen outside muggle pornography.

He tore his gaze away when she started to stand and didn't notice the smirk on her face.

A tap at the door and she opened it to find her assistant, Sara Leigh, holding a missive from Sirius. "The big boss had an idea."

She took the note and brought it over to Hamish, bending over more than necessary to put it on the desk in front of him, showing off her lack of of undergarments. Hamish blushed and she grinned.

She was going to marry him no matter what it took.

~•~

Hamish pushed the thought of Glenda underneath his desk and read the letter. He laughed and went to do as ordered.

⁂

Harry saw the mark of the Academy on the box and, after verifying it with his glasses' verification mode, he opened the box.

As soon as his fingernail broke through the spellotape, the box burst open in a bout of fireworks and somethign white flashed past as Harry thought _Sirius promised to stop doing that!_

His vision was obscured as he felt something wrap around his leg. Then his arm. Then his waist. And his other leg. And the other arm was wrapped in a cool embrace. His vision was obscured again and then he could see but something was pressing against his face.

~•~

After a long moment, the students watching what was happening to Harry burst into raucous laughter. The third year student was covered in a nundu hide and head, cut and tailored to fit the boy.

A letter appeared in front of Harry and Hermione grabbed it, as she, Licorice, and Sophie giggled as Harry sighed at the humiliation.


	16. On how Sinister joined the household

Sinister awoke. She pushed up the lid of her nest and took a few moments to rearrange the shredded paper and flannel then hopped out and let the lid close. The ancient book she had turned into her nest took up only a third of the floorspace in the cupboard and she rearranged her small treasures—the many items her Mistress had decided were no longer useful and made a fine collection of displays for mating. If a male house-elf ever visited the household.

Her displays arranged, she left the cupboard and checked the time. Four nineteen. A minute early.

She waited until the clock in the hall ticked to twenty after then burst into motion.

She dashed out the cat flap on the door and retrieved three eggs.

A door was opened to a deep pit with a snap of her fingers and she dashed down to the root cellar to collect a potato then down into the cold storage for the milk and bacon.

The Mistress refused to use magic on food Sinister reminded herself and grated the potato without magic then set it to soak in water as she prepared the eggs and checked the oats she had left soaking in yogurt the night before.

At exactly 5:18 and 40 seconds, the steaming bacon filled grits, eggs, hash browns, blueberry tisane, and chilled oats awaited her mistress.

She looked at the seat at 5:19. Her mistress didn't appear.

Sinister waited with great anxiety. "Missy Wallander never late!" she whispered to herself, twisting her ears as anxiety upset the small creature.

At 5:20, the house elf headed into the sitting room then carefully climbed the stairs. Her Mistress had been an Auror and an Unspeakable for decades and did not appreciate loud noises.

Sinister burst into tears when she saw her Mistress. But she knew exactly what she was to do.

With her Mistress dead, the house-elf began snapping her fingers, covering the furniture throughout the house with heavy black drapes.

She did the long list of chores she had been given to do when Mistress passed then did the final one on the list.

The house-elf removed a large painting from storage and carefully hung it above the fireplace, replacing the painting of Mistress Wallander's parents with one of the Mistress herself.

She touched the small nameplate and the painting snorted awake.

"I've passed then?" she asked at the sight of the grieving house-elf and black clad furniture.

She nodded. "Yes Mistress."

"Well, I hope your next family appreciates you as much as I did. Go on, someone else out there'll need you. Go let the Ministry know."

~•~ 

The Wizard working the desk at the DMLE was unsurprised to have a house-elf appear on his desk. As the current charge wizard, he was used to house-elves reporting crimes for their owners.

"Sinister is reporting that Mistress Wallander has passed away, sir."

This was his first report of a death but he knew the things to do.

He sent a plane off to the on-duty DMLE witch nearest and she and her partner approached.

"House-Elf Sinister has reported her owner has passed away.

"Sinister, the full name of your mistress?"

"Desire Montreguille Wallander, missy, sir, of the great and most honored Cavendishes and having married the wonderful Wallace Wallander!" She had never met her mistress's late husband but she had told stories about him all the time.

⁂ 

Sinister stood with the half-dozen house-elves in the House-Elf Relocation Office, all watching the young married wizard as he debated which house-elf to purchase.

He went with Kinzie, the current best all the house-elves agreed. Sinister knew she was considered less able than others. She resigned herself to a long wait of cleaning the Ministry for people she wasn't bound to.

Her darker skin, slighter frame, and lesser magic ability would likely have her unchosen even with her lesser cost.

~•~

Sinister was surprised to find a boy helping with the choosing until another house-elf whispered he was "Him! The Boy-Who-Lived!" "He's s'posed to be at Hoggywarts," whispered another house-elf. Those nearby who heard shivered in excitement, imagining being able to clean for a thousand messy students. House-elves who worked at Hogwarts would occasionally come visit and tell wonderful tales of incredible messes students had accidentally made or horribly frightening tales of the students having to clean up their own messes as punishment.

Sinister stared at him with wide eyes as Harry smiled at her. "Hi. What's your name?"

"S-Sinister is h-honored to meet Master Harry Potter Sir!"

She was even more shocked when the boy said something to the man with him and a minute later she was informed by Watto, the oldest Ministry House-elf she would be working for Harry Potter.

~•~

Sinister arrived at the Potter home and was surprised to find it was not an ancient manor. Disappointed slightly at its small size, she was delighted to find it had been magically expanded and there would be more than two people to care for when Sirius sat her down in the kitchen.

"So, having lived with my parents and their insane house-elf and Harry having grown up in the muggle world, we have some rules we all will abide by." Sinister nodded excitedly, her ears flopping madly. "The two rooms with muggle stuff in them are to be cleaned by hand, no magic. They have magic attenuation crystals in them you'll need to replace every seven days, seven hours, and seven minutes."

She nodded again. "Sinister knows magic atty crystals! Missy Wallander used them at the Ministry!"

"Oh? What did she do?"

"Mistress Wallander was an Unspeakable, Master Sirius sir."

He nodded. "Well, aside from replacing those and no magic in them, you'll be able to clean as normal anywhere else. There're six owls in residence and one cat, we're debating getting a dog and a snake. I'm also an animagus and Remus is a werewolf. The basement under the garage is out of bounds for you on the day before, day of, and day after a full moon." Sinister's eyes widened and she nodded. "Now, as for punishments. Harry was not pleased by learning from other house-elves that some are physically punished. Therefore there's a wheel you will spin in the kitchen for your punishments."

She nodded.

⁂

Sinister slid out of her bed—she still had her nest but Master Sirius had requested she try sleeping in the bed for a month—then pulled on her new uniform, a vivid blue dress in an old Danish design Harry's family had examples of in old tapestries.

She used ribbons to hold up the bell like sleeves then took the stairs down to the next floor of the closet that was her room. She was shocked at the waste of space allotted to her. Ten house-elves could easily stay in the closet she had to her own. Only the house-elves at Hogwarts had more space than her. They all had small cottages made from little logs arranged in a no longer used dungeon room.

She looked at her nest for a moment and her mating display, now supplemented with four new pieces from her new family. A quick rearrangement of it then she took the stairs down to the floor and went through the cat flap after rearranging the few muggle and magical cleaning supplies they kept.

Inside the kitchen, she looked at the time. Four nineteen. She waited.

At four twenty, she exploded into action. Unlike Mistress Wallander's home, she could use magic all she needed. Master Sirius wasn't as sensitive as she was.

A run through the house and she verified every room was as it should be, snapped the dust out of Master Harry's room, cleaned up the cat's urine from in front of his door, polished the weird muggle object called BOB in Missy Tonks's room she kept under the pillow, collected a dozen eggs from the hens out back and checked the two occamies to see if they had lain.

At ten to five she placed the bacon, bacon, seven cheese, and steak quiche into the oven then began setting the table.

At six fifteen, Sirius stumbled in to the dining room while Remus was already seated, reading the paper.

Sinister scampered along the table—Master Sirius preferred seeing her so she was visible—and plated his quiche, poured his tea, and set his three minute occamy egg into an egg cup then sliced up his toast soldiers.

Sirius blinked sleepily. "Occamy egg?"

"Yes, master. Cooked three minutes, green pepper is right here!"

He nodded and used a spoon to break the egg open, setting aside the valuable shell—mixing occamy silver with mined silver one to one ended up with a five percent heavier bar than expected—Potters, and now Sirius and Remus, were the only ones who knew how exactly.

Sinister watched with great pleasure as Sirius made his toast soldiers swim in the runny egg then make nummy sounds as he ate while Remus fought not to laugh at his friend. It was much too entertaining to wake him up enough to have him realize he wasn't alone.

"Amazing quiche," Remus finally said when Sirius was done and he looked at him.

"Uhh, how long have you been there?"

"I was here when you came in. And your Egg Eaters of Penzance rendition, while off on syllables, was utterly entertaining."

Sirius groaned at the evil grin on his friend's face.

~•~

Sinister stared at the box. She had made a mistake today. One big enough for punishment. She had to assemble… IT.

She opened the box.

Sticks and wedges and pegs and a pointer and nuts and bolts.

Slowly, she assembled the stand, carefully reading the directions.

She stared at it when done. A wheel with a dozen different punishments on it ranging from fifteen minute timeout in a corner to having to sit and watch a movie and eat popcorn and drink a juice box without doing any cleaning. It was the worst punishment she had ever thought could be forced on her. Then she saw the smallest one. She would have to make a mess and let it sit for four hours before cleaning it. Sinister nearly fainted.

She thanked Hecate and her ancestors this punishment was over having finished assembling it.


End file.
